27 Suits
by SurprisinglySuaveKoala
Summary: Kurt Hummel loves weddings. So when his best friend comes back into town and wants to marry the man he loves, the last thing he needs is Blaine Anderson following him around.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! So, this is a Klaine fic, based on the movie 27 Dresses. It will not be exactly the same plot, since Kurt is a guy, gay, and has no sister, so obviously I'm making changes, but the basic premise is the same. You do not have to have seen the film for this to make sense. There will be some of the same or similar dialogue, and some different, so whatever you recognise is not mine. I guess it's kind of a mix of a crossover with none of the original characters, and like a filling in the gaps thing. I don't know, just give it a go and see what you think.**

**I really hope you review, I would love to know what you think so far. Thank you for reading.**

**I do not own Glee, nor do I own the plot of 27 Dresses.**

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><p>Kurt Hummel loved weddings.<p>

This love had blossomed a few months after Kurt's ninth birthday, on a beautiful, snowing winter's day. His mother had died not long ago, but his father had tried his best to continue life as best he could for the both of them, as well as Rachel.

Rachel Berry grew up next door to Kurt. She never had a real mother of her own, as she her surrogate mother did not stay in contact with her, something that Rachel didn't resent as deeply as she could have but still wished had been different. Her fathers were a great inspiration to Kurt, and perhaps also to his father, who may not have embraced his sexuality quite as well as he did had he not seen a living example of it nearly every day.

As she never had this female figure in her life, Elizabeth Hummel took it upon herself to become like a mother to Rachel. The two families had known each other since Rachel and Kurt were babies, and the two became extremely similar in many respects, but complete opposites in others. Everyone they knew thought of them as brother and sister, and no matter how much they fought, so did they. Hiram and Leroy were like Kurt's loving uncles, the people he always went to about things his father could not understand, and Elizabeth was a mother to both of the children, and loved them through to her last day.

When Kurt's mother died, both children were devastated. At the age of only eight, they could not fully understand how or why it had happened, but were shattered, showing it in very different ways. Kurt became silent, withdrawn, never speaking more than two words to anyone but his father, a disturbing contrast to his former character. Most shocking of all, he stopped singing. This was a real sign to Burt that he was mourning the loss of his mother as much as he was his wife.

Rachel, however, cried buckets, loud and long. She was willing to talk about her pain to anyone who would listen, which was a surprising amount of people. She seemed to gain all the sympathy of the adults around, as they assumed it was much harder for a young girl to lose her mother figure than it was for a boy, and Kurt let her have it. He didn't mind; she was upset, he was upset, and he would much rather be upset in private. He did not want people to feel sorry for him.

Gradually, however, he became bright, stronger. His old self was returning, and he again began to take pleasure in the things he had before. Singing, fashion, cooking, decorating. He knew, at his young age, that this was what his mother would want. She was a musical character, singing and dancing constantly, the house never free of a melody. When it fell silent after her death, Kurt resolved to fill it with his own music, and instantly felt things getting better.

The turning point for Kurt's happiness was that beautiful winter's day. His mother's sister, Anne, was getting married. She lived far, far away, in Toronto, Ontario, in Canada and they hardly ever got to see each other, but Kurt delighted in the moments they did; she was his favourite relative, Auntie Anne. She loved Kurt, and always wore pretty dresses and that bright red lipstick Kurt loved so much. She was the first person he came out to, before Mercedes and his father and even Rachel, because he knew she would understand. She, as Burt had explained to him, was a lesbian, which meant she had a girlfriend. Kurt knew that she would know what he was going through, so he dug out the old address book, and found her name in his mother's curly handwriting, and dialled her number on the phone while his dad was watching a game. He took it down to his room, curled up, and told her everything. He cried, and she cried, and she gave him strength. Strength to be himself, and to tell the truth to his father.

So when Burt announced that they, and the Berry's, were taking a trip over in the holidays for Anne and Julia's wedding, Kurt was ecstatic. The general atmosphere of the wedding amazed him, and the sight of all the flowers and dresses brought a wide smile to his face. His aunt ran up to him and gave him a huge hug, kissing him on his cheeks and leading them to their seats, but inviting Kurt and Rachel back with her to see her dress.

And when she pulled it on to discover, with a shriek, a huge rip in the back, well. That was really the moment that determined Kurt's greatest joy in life. And as he took Rachel's ribbon from her hair and laced it into the back of the dress, he knew that this was what he wanted to do for people.

When Anne squealed and hugged him, calling him a lifesaver and telling him to carry her train, he felt so proud that he was helping someone on the most important day of their life.

And that was the day Kurt Hummel fell in love with weddings.

Then Carole came along, with Finn, who Kurt had developed a huge crush on. Finally, a boy who was nice to him. A _cute_ boy who was nice to him. But Finn ignored Kurt, dismissing him as some guy he had to hang around with because their parents were dating, and went for pretty young Rachel. As always.

But Kurt got over Finn, like he always did, and let Rachel have him. Because Rachel always got what she wanted. He planned Carole and his dad's wedding in a week, and found himself feeling much, much better. He found that celebrating other people's love took his mind off the fact that he didn't have any of his own. And with the amount of people begging him to help them with theirs, he barely had to think about it at all.

He had never again allowed himself to dwell on the idea of a boyfriend, because he knew that if he allowed himself to fall in love, there was so much chance that it would just be taken away. The only other boy he had even felt mild feelings about had been Sam, and he was hopelessly straight. Rachel, of course, had gotten him to be her prom date in a heartbeat.

So when Puckerman suggested he go spy on the Warblers, and he entered the school of intelligent, talented, not to mention extremely attractive young boys, he stopped, turned around and walked out again. That way there was no chance he would be drawn in by the education, and no bullying policy, and fall for another boy in its midst.

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><p>Kurt turned to face the woman in the dress, and covered his mouth with his hand.<p>

"Oh, Santana, you look so beautiful!" He gasped, moving closer to skim his hands over the waistline and smooth down the skirt. "The dress is gorgeous, oh my goodness. Wonderful." He clapped his hands together, beaming.

Santana flicked her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, disinterested. "Can I take it off now? White isn't my colour."

Kurt just rolled his eyes at her dismissive attitude, still admiring the dress.

"Mr Hummel?" A woman hurried from the other end of the shop, a phone in her hand. "It's the bride." She whispered, smiling.

Kurt smiled and took the phone from her. "Hello there, my darling."

"Kurt!" The woman said. "How is it? Is it all right? They've hemmed it?"

"Breathe, honey, it's fine." Kurt reassured her soothingly. "Fantastic, even. Lucky you and Santana are the same size." He admired the sight of the bored Latina in the dress once more. "You're going to look so beautiful, Quinn."

"Thank you," Kurt could hear her relax. "Thank you so much for doing this Kurt, you've been so amazing."

"It's no problem." Kurt assured her. "We'll bring the dress right over. I'll see you soon."

"Bye," Quinn said before she hung up. "And thank you."

"Can I get out of this dress now?" Santana asked. Kurt just waved a hand at her as he gave the shop assistant the money, smiling and turning around to see Santana stripping in the middle of the shop, much to the alarm of the assistant.

"Santana, really?" Kurt scolded, as his friend threw the dress at him and pulled her own on. She just shrugged.

"We're the only ones here, it's nothing you haven't seen before." She said dismissively, straightening her purple collared dress to match Kurt's suit. "Ugh, this is horrible."

"It is," Kurt agreed as he took the dress and they hurried out of the shop and across the street. "But this is Quinn's special day. Not ours. And if she wants these purple clothes to match her decorations, then that is her decision."

"You're too understanding sometimes." Santana grumbled, but took his arm as they hailed for a cab.

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><p>They arrived at the church, one of the many wedding venues to be found in New York City, and as soon as they walked through the door Quinn ran at him kissing his cheeks and hugging him, taking the dress from his arms and going to get changed.<p>

David approached, hands in his pockets and grinning easily, greeting Kurt and nodding at Santana.

"Thanks for keeping her sane," he said to Kurt. "I know if I had tried to help, I would have messed it all up."

"It was no problem." Kurt smiled at the groom. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes." David admitted. "It's the best feeling in the world, though."

Kurt grinned, embracing him tightly and then letting him go, ushering him towards his place at the alter, waiting for the vicar.

Kurt looked around the wedding, sighing happily, as Santana wandered off to survey the men. He looked at how happy everyone was, how happy they were for Quinn and David. Weddings were so selfless. That's what he loved about them.

"Hey," Santana appeared behind him, pointing at two guys sitting near the front. "Do you want to blonde or the brunet? 'Cause I think the blonde might be gay. He was totally checking David out. And hey, double bonus, if he's checking out a married man he's probably cool with a one night wedding stand."

"God, Santana, can't you keep it in your pants for one wedding?" Kurt scolded, but looking quickly at the men nevertheless.

"Are you kidding? The only reason I'm wearing this monstrous dress is so a drunken groomsmen can rip it to shreds with his teeth." Santana sighed.

Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled Santana over to her place next to him. He was always granted a special place, being, in a way, a male bridesmaid, and, of course, the helper to the bride. He always stood next to the happy couple.

The music began, and a wide smile crossed his face. Quinn stepped into the room, in her beautiful white dress Santana had worn earlier. The room, even Santana, turned to look at Quinn, but Kurt cast his eyes over to David already waiting at the alter. He observed the look on his face, the adoration and warmth and just pure _love_. _Someday someone might look at me like that,_ he thought, but then quickly shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Quinn walked slowly up the aisle, smiling sweetly, until she was next to David, and the vicar began to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the sight of God…"

Kurt's attention began to wander as he wondered how much time he had before Lola's weddings started. He shifted in the tight, stiff purple suit and tried to subtly shift his arm up to look at his watch_. Ten minutes…_

"You may kiss the bride."

Kurt clapped as Quinn and David shared a kiss, and as soon as the audience began to get up, he shifted away, and bolted out of the door, hailing a cab.

"Hi there," Kurt said as he climbed into the cab. "Edison ballroom, please. I'll give you $300 for the night if you promise not to look back here. You do that and I'll knock off a twenty."

"Alright…" The driver said suspiciously, but drove anyway. Kurt pulled out his Sherwani he bought specially for the occasion out of his bag, and began to change into it with difficulty. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Hey!" Kurt said, covering himself with the robe. "You're down to $280, mister!"

"Okay, okay!"

He arrived at Lola's wedding and greeted her enthusiastically.

"Kurt!" She squealed. "You're here, thank goodness! Come on, up you go!"

He hurried up to his spot next to the alter and waited patiently, observing his surroundings of the traditional Indian wedding. He sighed happily as the music started, sneaking a peek at his watch again.

It was hard work flitting from wedding to wedding, but the combined forces of Kurt's extreme organizational skills, and the helpful cab driver, he managed to be at both weddings for the vows, the cake cutting, the couple's dance, and, of course the tossing of the bouquet. He stood back politely at Lola's wedding, watching the girls scrabble and jump for the flowers, but at Quinn and David's, he somehow found himself in the middle of the group of excited women without even realising how it happened. Quinn threw the bouquet, laughing, and as the girl next to him jumped a little too far, he was knocked to the ground.

And it all went black.

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><p>"Hey, hi."<p>

Kurt came back, blinking, to see the face of a very, very handsome man, smiling amusedly.

Well then.

He had dark, curly hair, a slightly cocky smile and deep, dark hazel eyes, _wow. _Kurt was ashamed to admit he swooned a little.

"It's alright, folks, just a little bump on the head," he assured the crowd around Kurt. "Go back to the wedding, he's fine."

Kurt blinked.

"Are you okay?" The handsome man asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand to help him up. "I think you hit your head. Blacked out for a little bit just now."

"Oh… yeah." Kurt cleared his throat. "Got caught in the middle of a bouquet-catching group there."

"Uh huh." The man said. "So you weren't trying to catch it?"

"No." Kurt scoffed, attempting to stand up with the man, but feeling a dizzy sensation in his head before promptly falling into the man's arms. He looked up into the deep brown eyes, framed by those dark, long lashes, blinking and trying to remember how he got there.

"Uh…" Kurt got up again, blushing. "Thank you."

"It's fine." He said, not letting go of Kurt's arm until he was sure he was fully stood up.

The ridiculously handsome man then stuck his hand out, still smiling. Kurt took it and shook slowly, blinking dazedly at him.

"Kurt."

The man's warm hand squeezed his. "Blaine."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there. Thank you for such a positive response to last chapter! It was what made me want to update so fast again. Right, so the story continues. Just as a warning Blaine is a little OOC in this story, just a bit, but not in a bad way. I don't think. I hope you enjoy.**

**I don't own Glee or 27 Dresses, they belong to their respective writers and producers.**

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><p>"Blaine… nice to meet you, Blaine." Kurt smiled tightly and attempted half heartedly to walk away, before stopping abruptly and clutching his head again. "Oh…"<p>

"Whoa, okay." Blaine rushed over to take his arm again. "Why don't we get you a cab?"

Kurt made to protest, but then realised he simply did not have the energy. Besides, he was still kind of dizzy. So he nodded quickly and let Blaine guide him out of the church, waving a quick goodbye to David.

"Alright. Nice and easy, that's it…" Blaine didn't let go of Kurt's arm until he was standing in front of the waiting cab, the New York skyline glinting ahead. Kurt placed the large bouquet of flowers he had received as a semi-bridesmaid in between Blaine and himself, shut the door and told the driver his address. The driver – whose name, Kurt had discovered, was Ned – glanced over at Blaine and winked at Kurt with a slight grin. Oh God, he thought he picked him up. Super. Fantastic.

The drive was uncomfortably silent, filled only with awkward sighs and Blaine's tapping of his fingers on his phone. Tap. Tap. Tap. Kurt sighed irritably and tried to glare at the other man, but simply found himself face to face with the large bunch of flowers.

Blaine was the first to break the silence.

"I loved your briefs, by the way. Calvin Klein, very nice."

Kurt's eyes widened as he turned to gape at him through the flowers.

"You buzzed past me earlier, I saw you changing outfits. You were at two weddings in one night, weren't you?" Kurt simply frowned. "That's a little upsetting, don't you think?"

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Well, they're both really good friends of mine, and – and their weddings happened to be on the same night, so what was I supposed to do?" He defended quickly.

"Oh no," Blaine chuckled, those pretty hazel eyes crinkling. "That's not the upsetting part, how do you stand it? I mean, isn't one wedding bad enough?"

"I love weddings, I always have." Kurt said, shrugging.

"Really?" Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah." Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was looking at him disbelievingly.

"Which part? The forced merriment, the horrible music or the bad food?" Kurt's mouth fell open in shock. How _dare_ he?

Kurt huffed. "Actually it's meeting upbeat people like yourself."

"Love is patient, love is kind." Blaine tilted his head. "Love means slowly losing your mind."

"What is it you do again?" Kurt said, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm a writer."

"_Right."_ Blaine laughed slightly, grinning at Kurt. How dare he grin at him, stupid attractive wedding-hater. Was he home yet? Ah, sweet escape.

"This is my building."

Blaine reached over for the flowers. "I got it."

"No, I got it." Kurt said shortly, tugging them from his grip.

"Sure?"

"Yep. Alright sweetie, $140. You know what you did." Kurt handed the money over to the cab driver, just to see Blaine getting out of the cab with his flowers. "What– no, hey, wait– um, he'll be right back. Hold on."

Kurt got out of the cab, slamming the door and rushing over to the other side where Blaine was holding the bouquet and grinning.

"Don't you think it's a whole lot of ritual for something which, let's face it, has got about a fifty/fifty shot of making it out of the gate?" He asked, leaning against the car, that stupid, cocky smile still on his stupid, handsome face.

"Oh, how very refreshing, a guy who doesn't believe in marriage." Kurt made to take the flowers, only to have Blaine hold them out of his reach. Oh my _God, _he is so _frustrating._

"I'm just trying to point out the hypocrisy of the spectacle." Blaine said, shrugging a shoulder as Kurt glowered at him.

"Oh, that's so noble of you." Kurt scowled. "Do you also go around telling little children that Santa Claus doesn't exist? 'Cause someone needs to blow that shit wide open." He reached out for the flowers again, but Blaine just held them away. How was he even doing that? Stupid short hobbit.

"I see you admit that believing in marriage is kinda like believing in Santa Claus." Blaine smirked.

Kurt paused, gaping. "I– no! I –" He took a deep breath, and forced a smile. "I don't know why I'm arguing this with a perfect stranger, but yes, marriage, like everything good and important, isn't easy." Blaine nodded, tilting his head. Kurt raised an eyebrow, continuing. "Cynicism, on the other hand–" He took the moment of Blaine listening interestedly to him to take the flowers from him and hoisting them up to his chest. "–always is." Blaine chuckled slightly and took the proffered hand Kurt thrust at him. "It was very interesting meeting you."

"Bye." Blaine grinned.

"Yeah." Kurt walked over the road quickly, leaving Blaine smiling and leaning against the cab.

"Are you gonna be at any more weddings, say, next weekend?" Blaine shouted after him.

"I have to go!" Kurt shouted over his shoulder

"How many have you been in, by the way? Just, like, ball park." Blaine shouted back, grinning broadly.

"Goodnight!"

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><p>Blaine smiled and got back into the cab. <em>Damn.<em>

He cast his eyes across the seat, to find a small, brown filofax lying on it. He frowned, picking it up.

"Hey, you know what, could you –?"

"Yeah?" The driver asked.

Blaine paused. _This is it. My ticket to seeing him again. Haha, you thought you got rid of me, cute wedding man._

"Never mind, forget it." He said, slumping back into his seat and flicking past swatches of pink and white materials, cut outs of wedding dresses to find the day diary. Kane wedding… and some little hearts. Aw. How cute. He flicked through various meetings and lunches… wow, another wedding. Two in two weeks, goodness. Wait, another one? Weaved in between gown fittings, registry openings, and baker visits, were three more weddings.

This was unbelievable.

He snapped the book shut, and small smile crossing his face. Not only was this his ticket back to Kurt, it was also his ticket out of his job.

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><p>The next day, Kurt hung the hideous purple suit on a hanger, and stuffed it into his wardrobe. Why he had gone for a smaller place with no walk-in wardrobe, he had no idea. This wardrobe was really getting stuffed.<p>

He hummed as he skipped over to the paper and plunked himself down on the coach, flicking through.

He sighed. "Death, destruction… wedding vows, yay…" He opened his favourite section of the New York Journal. "Come to daddy…"

Kurt focused in on the page with 'Commitments' printed at the top, with the heading 'Carnival of a Lifetime'. He sighed contentedly. "Aw."

He read the article, drinking in words that spun a beautiful tale of love at first sight, moonlight kisses and romantic fireworks. _This _was what he lived for. This was magic.

The author… ah, Kevin Anderson. That guy was incredible. The love stories he wrote, they were the most stunning, bewitching things Kurt had ever read. He reached for the scissors and carefully cut out the article, placing it in a stack with the rest of his. These were why Kurt loved weddings.

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><p>Blaine walked across the street to his work building, carrying two coffees and the small brown filofax, glancing briefly and the glinting sign he passed each morning. <em>The New York Journal.<em>

He nodded to his colleagues, and caught up with Noah, handing him the other coffee.

"Here," He said, handing him a small present box. "From the happy couple."

"Oh right." Noah smirked. "You were eating coconut cake and doing the electric slide. So how'd it go?"

"Oh, let's see," Blaine sighed. "The bride wore a gown that sparkled like the groom's eyes as he saw her approaching to a shower of rose petals." He said monotonously.

"And you're _not_ getting laid?" Noah said disbelievingly. "Commitments is like the gold standard of wedding announcements, every chick on the planet rips open that page first thing Sunday– brides _kill _to get in there, and their loving fiancés will do _even more._" He lowered his voice slightly. "Do you have any idea what you could be doing?"

"You mean to guys who are about to get married?"

"Yeah!" Noah said enthusiastically. "They won't call you, they won't bother you, they'll pretend they never even met you, you can't _beat_ that!"

"And you know this from your wide experiences of homosexual one night stands?" Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Well, no, but dude," Noah spread his hands. "The Puckosaurus has _plenty _of experience with chicks, dudes can't be _that _different, can they?"

"Well, it's not going to matter much longer anyway," Blaine said, presenting the filofax to Noah. "You are looking at my ticket out of Commitments, my friend."

"Keep on dreaming." Noah smirked.

"Uh, go away." Blaine made a shooing motion with his hand, and Noah rolled his eyes and left.

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><p>Kurt walked, coffee in hand, to the front of the office for <em>Vogue<em>. He watched as Santana got out of the yellow cab, purple dress in hand and wearing a baggy white shirt and men's pants. Kurt raised an eyebrow at her.

"What?" Santana shrugged. "I wasn't going to come to work in my bridesmaid dress."

"Two day walk of shame outfit, elegant." Kurt said as Santana laughed lightly.

"What happened to you the other night?" Santana asked. "You were barely there and then you disappeared." A smirk appeared on her face. "You meet someone?" She nudged him.

"Come on, no." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Not a ridiculous question." Santana defended, eying Kurt's fashionable ensemble.

"Morning, Tina." Kurt said to his friend at the reception. "You haven't seen my filofax anywhere, have you? I can't find it."

"No." Tina said, shaking her head.

"No… okay, I'll go look for it. Oh, did you get those catalogue pages in for Matthew? He wants to see them first thing this morning."

Tina shrugged. "No."

"Okay," Kurt sighed. "No worries, I'll get them from production."

"Atta boy, show her who's boss." Santana said sarcastically as they walked away.

"I'm not her boss," Kurt insisted.

"You're the boss' assistant, same diff." She shrugged. "What's the good of the job if you can't abuse the power?"

"Santana, go to marketing."

"_Now_ you're bossy." Santana said, but smiled and turned the corner. Kurt chuckled and sat down at his desk, rummaging around for his filofax. He looked under all his books and magazines, in all the drawers… nothing.

"Where the hell did I put that thing?" He murmured.

* * *

><p>Blaine slammed the filofax down on Sue Sylvester's desk.<p>

"_That_ is a great idea for the front page of the section." He said

Sue put her head in her hands. "Ugh, come on Anderson. How many times do I have to go through this with you?"

"I'm telling you Sue, it's a great idea."

"Really?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "Is it as great as you last great idea, an exposé at price fixings at wedding bakeries?"

"Yes, yes, they're ripping people off! Flour costs pennies per ounce, that's a 100% mark up, it's outrageous!" Blaine insisted.

"Yes, it is." Sue sighed. "Also? No one cares."

"Alright, what about the piece I wanted to do on the exploitation of workers in handmade lace factories, that is a _killer_ piece." Blaine said, pointing at Sue.

"Oh, right, that's what people _really_ want to read about in the style section." Sue said sarcastically. "Anderson, this section practically pays for the _entire_ paper. Our advertisers want fun, upbeat, colourful human interest stories opposite their products."

"So that's what we're about now, making money?" Blaine asked dryly.

"Get out." Sue pointed at the door.

"Alright, listen, that was not right, I get it." Blaine backtracked, coming over to stand next to Sue and opening the filofax. "But this one is. Look, this guy has in to seven weddings."

"So?"

"This _year._" Sue looked up. "He was in two on Saturday alone." Blaine pointed triumphantly at the page on the filofax. Sue sighed heavily.

"But it won't just be about him," Blaine continued. "It'll be an incisive look at how the wedding industry had transformed something that should be an important right of passage into nothing more but a corporate revenue stream!" He said excitedly, running a hand through his curly hair. Sue just looked up at him from the filofax. "In a fun, upbeat, you know, cheerful way." Blaine smiled charmingly. "Look, Sue, I am dying back there in Commitments. If I have to write another sentence about baby's breath I'm going to shoot myself. This is a real story, this is what I want to do." He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

"I need you covering weddings." Sue said. "That's what you're good at, and that's what I need you to do."

"Alright, if you don't stop giving me feature stories I'm about to quit." Blaine said seriously, looking her in the eyes. She paused.

"Alright." She relented. "One chance. If I don't like it, you go back to commitments for the rest of your life with a big smile on that ridiculously handsome face of yours." She gave him back the filofax and opened the door.

"Deal." Blaine grinned.

"Now get out of my office."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey. Okay, so, I made a really, really stupid mistake last chapter, because I was watching the movie as I wrote because I wanted to transribe some lines, and it was so late at night I didn't think and I wrote woman instead of man. I'm sososo sorry. Thank you anyone who told me. Anyway, thanks for your kind reviews, and I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Reviews are awesome, if you'd take the time to do it that'd be wonderful.**

**Don't own Glee or 27 Dresses, just admire both from afar.**

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><p>Kurt sighed, flicking through the latest model shots for Vogue's cover. They weren't great. They were nice, but… they were too stiff, too unrealistic, not natural.<p>

"Do you think he'll like these?" He asked Santana, who was sitting on the same desk as the pictures, idly cutting the tips of her hair with some scissors.

"Yes, I do." Santana said flatly. "I think those photos for the fall issues will cause Matthew to take you into his office and make sweet, sweet love to you for hours and hours–"

Kurt interrupted her by smacking her on the arm with one of the photos. "Santana!"

"Tell me that crazy crush of yours is the reason why you work so hard as you do? 'Cause it's upsetting." She turned to him, raising a perfectly pencilled eyebrow.

"I just like my job, okay?" Kurt replied, trying to keep his tone light but gritting his teeth.

"No, you just think that one day Matthew is going to wake up and realise he's _madly_ in love with you, and he's going to make some _spectacular_ gesture of love and– holy shit."

"Flowers for Kurt Hummel?" A balding delivery man, his face obscured by a ridiculously huge and colourful petals flourishing from a purple pot, staggered into the room.

"Yeah, that's me." Kurt said dazedly, staring wide-eyed at the flowers as the man placed them on the desk. "Thank you."

Santana hopped up, scowling at the flowers. "That's great, I spend two days in bed with a guy and _you_ get flowers, nice."

Kurt looked up, still wide-eyed and hopeful. "There's no note."

Santana frowned for a moment, but then laughed. "Oh Kurt, you don't seriously think they're from your dream guy, do you?"

Kurt just sighed and picked up the flowers. "Tina, can you take these to my desk for me please?"

"Sure, no problem." Tina walked over and took them from him, stumbling a little under the weight.

"Thank you," He said to her, and then turned to Santana. "Would you please stop saying that in front of people? Nobody knows."

"Everybody knows, Kurt, except Matthew." Santana retorted.

"It's true," Tina said as she walked away, flowers in her arms.

Kurt blinked. "Well, nobody knows he's bisexual apart from me and you." He defended.

Santana scoffed. "Come on, Kurt, he's the head of fashion at _Vogue._ Him telling you wasn't as much of a feat of trust and love as you made it out to be in your head, and you _know_ it."

"Well, you still shouldn't out him to his employees if that's not what he wants." Kurt told her sternly. "He told me because he can trust me."

"He can only trust you because you _love _him, if you had no feelings for him that gossip would have spread around the office like wildfire in a day." Santana said smugly.

"No, it wouldn't, shut up Santana." Kurt hissed.

"Kurtie and Matthew, sitting in a tree…"

Santana was interrupted by a large, brown, barking dog running in through he doors and straight to Kurt. He bent down to pet him, rubbing behind his ears and cooing at him. "Hi, Tommy! Hey, buddy, hi…"

"Whoa, c'mon Tommy, no slobbering on the nice man..."

Kurt looked up immediately, and stood with a bright smile and sparkling eyes. He vaguely heard Santana's noise of disgust next to him, but ignored it and focused on Matthew's adorably crooked smile.

"Hi!" He said breathlessly. "How was it?"

"It was phenomenal," Matthew replied enthusiastically, brushing the light brown hair away from his forehead. "Up and back in ten hours, my best time yet."

"God, isn't that like the eighth time you've climbed Mount Whitney?" Kurt asked casually, knowing full well it definitely was. With how long he's salivated over those Facebook photos of Matthew's strong muscles clenching in those shorts and t-shirts, he was bound to pick up some facts.

"Yeah, it is, but… how do you remember that stuff, Kurt?" Matthew asked, his blue eyes twinkling in what Kurt liked to think of as admiration.

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged, laughing breathlessly. He turned back to the cover shots. "So, we just got these in, what do you think?"

Matthew leaned on the desk to look at them, contemplating. "I think they're… too artificial."

"That's what I was thinking, they just don't have enough of a feel of easiness and relaxation."

"Right, I mean, there's no smoothness, it doesn't look natural, not to mention the eyes need to be brightened here."

"Yeah, more just rolled out of bed, I got it. I will talk to marketing." Kurt beamed, picking up the photos.

"That's why I keep you around, Kurt, I mean who else could finish my sentences?" Matthew smiled, shrugging off his jacket and walking out towards his office, Kurt beside him, who laughed slightly.

"Your design meeting is at eleven," He said, flicking through his notes, Santana on his heels. "And the 92nd Street Y called to confirm that you'll be attending their benefit, you want to go?"

"Do I have to make a speech?"

"Just a few words about ecologically responsible business practices, something light, and fun." Kurt said, shrugging a shoulder. "You in?"

"Yeah, let's do it." Matthew agreed. "Put it on the calendar, but I'm probably gonna need to dig up a date for that, huh?"

"Yeah, probably." Kurt said as they reached Matthew's office.

"Well, at least that's the one thing in my life you don't have to take of for me, right?" He smiled warmly, making Kurt's heart flutter.

"Right." He breathed as Matthew turned and went into his office. Kurt sighed contentedly and walked back past Santana.

"Oh. My. _God._" She shook her head in disgust.

"Leave me alone."

"Hey, Kurt?" Matthew popped his head back around his office door. Kurt looked up. "Did you put that breakfast burrito on my desk?"

"Oh – I just thought you might be hungry." Kurt explained.

"That's why I love you." Matthew grinned, and disappeared through the door again. Kurt gazed longingly at the spot that he had just left.

"I love you too." Kurt sighed.

And with a firm shake of her head, Santana stood in front of Kurt and slapped him hard in the face. Kurt stumbled back a little with a cry of shock.

"Oh. Yeah… yeah, you're right, I needed that." He said blankly.

Santana nodded firmly and walked away, her heels clicking on the polished floors.

* * *

><p>"Alright everybody, I hope to see you at my engagement party tonight," Tina said as the office workers made their way out. "And Kurt, thanks again for arranging everything."<p>

"No problem." Kurt smiled.

"Hey, do you want to come over to my house before the party?" Santana asked him. "Some of the guys from shipping are coming over and they're bringing tequila and bubble wrap."

"Fun," Kurt grinned. "I can't, I've gotta pick up Rachel from the airport.

"God, wouldn't it be great if there was a service you could hire to do that? Like yellow cars, or shiny black Sedans?" Santana said, raising an eyebrow.

"I _want_ to pick her up, she's my best friend. Plus, she needs my help, so." Kurt shrugged and smiled. "See ya."

"Wouldn't wanna be ya." Santana muttered as he left.

* * *

><p>Kurt waited anxiously in the crowd of people at the airport, bouncing on his toes and craning his neck to try to see if Rachel was one in the stream of people filing out of the plane. He searched for her big pink suitcase, thinking that would be the easiest thing to recognise, when out of the crowds came Rachel, beaming at him, suitcase not in hand.<p>

"Hi!" Rachel danced towards him and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

"Hi, Rachel!" Kurt hugged her back, realising that six months was way too long. He pulled back and eyed her shiny purple handbag. "Hey, when did you start travelling so lightly?"

"Oh!" Rachel glanced behind her, at a tall, dark-haired smiling man wheeled her suitcase out behind him, handing it to Rachel. "I always meet the nicest people on planes."

"Hm," Kurt raised an eyebrow, but smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, parked in P9."

"So we're going back to your new apartment?" She asked excitedly, as they walked to the car together. "The one you bought after I left?"

"Yeah, there's a guest bedroom there, so that where you'll stay. I'm sure it won't be as nice as whatever fancy English hotel you were staying in, but it'll have to do for now." He smiled as he hoisted Rachel's bag into the car for her. "Plus it won't be filled with exotic businessmen."

"Oh, I didn't stay in the hotel for a whole six months!" Rachel laughed slightly. "No, I actually met this super nice actor in the play, and he had a spare room, so he let me stay there. It was so nice of him."

"For six whole months?" Kurt asked sceptically.

"Yeah, he was really nice. He was playing Fiyero, actually, so we got pretty close, you know?" She said offhandedly as she slid into the passenger seat and took out some nail polish.

"Yeah, I know." Kurt muttered as she began applying it to her nails.

* * *

><p>"And then he said that he wanted to come back to New York with me, of course, but I also told him that I need space." Rachel explained as Kurt opened his door and hauled her suitcases in. He closed the door and Rachel gasped. "This is so tiny and… cute! I love it!"<p>

Kurt gave a short answering laugh and propped her bags against the wall.

"Oh, it feels _so_ good to be home, six months away feels like so long." She sighed, taking in her surroundings. Kurt watched as she wandered over to his open drawer and picked up the laminated newspaper article. "Mom was my age, you know. Almost to the day."

Kurt nodded, long since used to what his best friend called his mother. She had none of her own, and when she finally met Shelby she could not use such maternal labels as she could with Elizabeth.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed, peering over her shoulder at the article. "It was the perfect wedding. Boathouse, the big band… ceremony at sunset."

"Except that dress, I mean… it's horrid. It's too big and poofy, and I know fashion isn't really my thing but that is not nice."

"That dress is _wonderful_." Kurt retorted. "Classic, yet extravagant, just look at that lace."

"I don't like lace." Rachel wrinkled her nose.

"I think it was perfect."

"Well," Rachel said as she put the article down. "They really did love each other."

Kurt hummed in agreement as Rachel rifled through the rest of the draw, picking up more articles.

"What are these?" She asked curiously, looking through them. "Wedding announcements?"

Kurt's eyes widened in alarm, snatching them from her, but taking care not to damage them. "I'm– no, they're just– excuse me, I was going to recycle them." He held them protectively to his chest.

"Well excuse me, into what, wallpaper?" Rachel laughed, raising her eyebrows and walking to sit down at Kurt's kitchen table. Kurt smiled slightly, embarrassed.

"It's just this one guy, Kevin Anderson, I only keep his. He writes the best ones." Kurt walked over to the cupboard to get glasses for him and Rachel as she started rubbing cream into her hands. "I just love the stories. The crazy proposals, the engagements…" He looked over to see Rachel inspecting her palms interestedly. "Yeah, never mind, it's not really your thing." He put the glasses down. "So how long are you staying for?"

"Um… a week or two?" Rachel said, nodding slowly. "My slot on Wicked is done, so I don't have much work right now."

Kurt looked up from pouring lemonade in the glasses. "Oh, speaking of work, I am meeting up with some people from the office tonight for a party, you want to come?"

Rachel smiled in what she probably guessed was a regretful way. "Actually, I'm having drinks tonight with some people from London."

Kurt frowned, bringing over the glasses and setting one down in front of Rachel. "Wait, so… let me get this straight… you would rather have drinks with hot English actors than come to my awesome work party?"

Rachel laughed. "Weird, huh? But I'll try to make it."

"Thanks. Okay, grape juice is in the fridge, Red Bull's on top of the freezer, and in the cupboard there are–"

"STRAWBERRY POP TARTS JINX!" The friends shouted at each other.

"Ha, I said it first." Rachel giggled, pulling them out.

"Ah." Kurt sighed. "Well, I'm going to go get ready for the party, and then I have to wrap my present." He got up. "And Matthew's present."

"Who's Matthew?" Rachel whirled around, suddenly interested at the mention of a man. _Figures._

"Slow down Rach, he's my boss." He said quickly, relaxing at the sight of her face falling in disappointment.

"Why have you got his present?" Rachel asked, chewing on the pop tart.

"I bought it for him. I basically manage his life, he'd be hopeless otherwise." He said fondly. "Actually, I'd better wrap it badly so it'll look like it's from him."

"…He sounds like a great boss." Rachel said.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed. "He really is."

* * *

><p>"Hey, looking good, boy." Santana greeted him as Kurt found her after saying hi to Tina. She looked him up and down, whistling lowly. "Wow, you know it's a party when the skinny jeans come out."<p>

Kurt swatted her playfully and smiled. "You look very nice too, Santana."

Santana just scoffed. "Nice isn't going to get me laid."

"You look hot?" Kurt offered distractedly; Matthew had just walked in, kissing Tina's cheek and handing her the present Kurt had dropped off to him earlier.

"You got them champagne glasses and a bottle of Cristal." Kurt told Matthew as he approached him and Santana.

"Good, alright. Any way she's going to believe it actually came from me?" He asked, smiling crookedly.

"Maybe," Kurt shrugged. "I wrapped it like a car ran over it."

"Nice, nice touch." Matthew grinned. "Alright, look, I'm going to go to the bar, get a couple of drinks, you guys need anything? A little liquid courage?" He turned to Santana. "Maybe something hair of the dog for you?"

Santana faked a laughed monotonously.

"I'm good, thanks." Kurt said.

Santana turned to him with an incredulous look on her face as soon as Matthew had left. "He asks you if you want a drink, you smile and say 'vodka soda', if you already have a drink, you down it! Then there's some flirting, some inter-office sex, an accidental pregnancy, a shotgun wedding and a life of bliss!" Santana explained.

"I can't get pregnant, San." Kurt said absentmindedly, still staring at Matthew's retreating figure.

"I'm sure there's a boy version very similar to that. How many times do we have to go over this?"

"I don't want him to think I'm irresponsible." Kurt said, craning his neck to keep him in sight.

"Yeah, that's what guys want, responsible, yum." Santana rolled her eyes.

"You're wrong." Kurt finally turned to her, smiling triumphantly. "Matthew appreciates me for who I am."

"What good is it being appreciated if no one is naked?" Santana asked. Kurt made a face at her, then quickly turned back to see Matthew coming back.

"Hey, Kurt…" He looked a little nervous. "Did you get that thing I left on your desk for you this morning?"

Kurt felt his heat beat speed up rapidly. Oh God, oh God, it was him, _it was him_.

"On– on my desk?" Kurt asked, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, was that… okay?"

"Okay?" Kurt asked in astonishment. "It was great!"

"Alright, good, good." He paused. "It's just we… haven't really had that kind of relationship before, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it."

Kurt found he couldn't form words, so simply settled for nodding vigorously, a huge smile spreading across his face.

"Alright." Matthew smiled. "Excuse me."

As he left, Kurt turned to Santana, who was staring at him with her mouth wide open.

"Oh my God!" Kurt squealed. "Oh my God, he gave me flowers, he gave me flowers!"

"Okay, stop it." Santana turned serious. "This is real life, this is not a fantasy. You have to go over there, and tell him how you feel."

Kurt nodded earnestly.

"It's now or never, so… so now, okay?" Kurt nodded again. "Now!" He sprung into action. "Go, go, now!"

Kurt took a deep breath, and walked towards his boss, who was standing and chatting with some guy from accounting. God, he was so cute. And _nice._ And he liked him, he really liked him! He got him flowers, he was so romantic, oh God…

But as he walked towards him, he saw Matthew walking a different way, his eyes fixed ahead of him with a small smiled. Kurt frowned, and followed his line of sight to see… _Rachel._

Okay, so she did make it. And of course Matthew was going to greet her, he hadn't seen her before.

_She actually looks nice for once. God, that dress is so low. She's wearing so much makeup… why is she wearing so much makeup? And why is Matthew smiling like that?_

He met them as they met in the middle, Rachel doing that stupid flirty smile she used on– on _everyone _, especially Finn, back in the day– and looking at Kurt, clearing her throat.

"Oh– sorry, um, Matthew, this is my best friend Rachel, and Rachel, this is my Matthew– no! No, I didn't mean it like that, that's not–"

"Kurt is my assistant." Matthew explained, still smiling that cute smile at Rachel. "Kind of like my right hand."

"Lucky him." Rachel smiled, twirling some of her hair around her finger. Kurt just stared at her.

"Yeah, it's kind of like whatever I need, he takes care of it." Matthew smiled. "And as if I don't take enough advantage of him already, I even dropped of my dry cleaning slip on his desk today."

Kurt felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach. _Oh God. Not again. _"Your dry cleaning slip." Kurt breathed, trying to laugh but horrified to discover he was fighting tears.

"It was an emergency, so…"

"Of course." Rachel nodded. "Fluff and fold is no joking matter."

"Right." Matthew chuckled. "Especially when you're down to your last pair of socks."

Rachel laughed loudly, and for a moment the two just stared at each other, leaving Kurt looking on like a third wheel.

"Hey, uh, do you maybe want to get a drink?" Matthew asked her.

"Yeah, sure." Rachel nodded. "I came to have a drink with Kurt, so… come on, Kurtie!"

_Great. Call me that in front of the love of my life, why don't you._

Kurt was just about to make some half-hearted excuse when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned quickly, shock taking over as he caught sight of the man in front of him.

What in the world was Blaine doing here?

"Hey." Blaine grinned easily, his hands in his pockets. "Were the flowers too much?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! Thank you for all the lovely reviews, I'm trying my very best to get back to all of you! We have some Klaine interaction in this chapter, and a sad Kurt. Oh no :( But fear not! Things will get better. **

**Chuck some reviews at me.**

**I don't own Glee or 27 Dresses.**

* * *

><p>Kurt stared at Blaine, stupid, annoying, smiling Blaine, dumbfounded. Flowers. <em>Flowers.<em> Fan-fucking-tastic. Flowers.

"They're from you." Kurt gaped, a million thoughts running through his head, most of them involving Kurt's hand and Blaine's face.

"Uh huh." Blaine smiled pleasantly.

"You sent them?" Kurt stared. Blaine nodded, still smiling that stupid adorable stupid smile.

"The angry marriage hater." Kurt said slowly, as Blaine's eyes narrowed in amusement, but his smile, unfortunately, did not. "Oh, that's such– such good news. _Good_ news." Kurt nodded, sighing. "Good news. Hey Blaine, could you hold this one second?" He asked, handing him his drink.

"Ah, sure."

"Thanks." Kurt said politely, and sped off towards the door at the back of the club, opening it and squeezing his eyes shut. He took a deep breath, all of the events of the last few minutes running through his head. "MOTHERFU–"

Blaine looked interestedly through the open door to see Kurt whacking his bag against the wall and shouting. He then observed with a small chuckle and raised eyebrows as Kurt turned, his eyes widening, to see a roomful of people staring up at his, and a banner on the wall declaring 'Happy 50th Anniversary'.

Kurt stood stunned, before realising that nothing embarrassing would ever affect him again, and smiling pleasantly. "I am so sorry. Fifty, wow." He laughed awkwardly. "That's great… I'll just… yeah…"

He practically flew out of the door and shut it behind him, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. Huh, who knew that door had another room behind it. Fascinating.

He walked back over to a shocked but seemingly reasonably charmed Blaine, still holding his drink, and took it back form him and smiled again. "Sorry about that. You were saying?"

"Uh, I just asked if you got my flowers, oh and, um–"

Blaine continued to talk and rifle through his bag as Kurt looked over his shoulder to see Matthew whispering in Rachel's ear, who was giggling and running her fingers up and down his arm.

"…Want to give you… ah, there you are." Kurt looked back to see Blaine holding his filofax. He grabbed it quickly and held it to his chest.

"Oh, thank God." He sighed.

"Yeah, you left it in the cab." Blaine nodded. "And it was either the engagement party tonight or Thursday's full body massage, so…"

"You read it?" Kurt gasped, clutching it protectively to his chest and glaring at Blaine, who annoyingly still just smiled back.

"Yeah– well, no, I _tried _to read it, it was very, very hard, all you little notes and the little cramped handwriting it was very… very Unabomber. You know, they do have these space age computer date books now that take care of everything." He informed him. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him.

"Yes, well, I don't need to be taken care of, thank you." He tried to walk away, but Blaine grabbed his arm, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"Okay, wait– well, just, have a drink with me." Blaine said earnestly.

"I–" Kurt sighed, glancing over and a laughing Matthew and Rachel. "You know, thank you, for bringing back my filofax, that was very nice."

"It's a drink, it's not a week in Oahu. Come on. One drink, it'll take the edge off." Blaine pleaded, his big brown eyes blinking up at him like a goddamn freaking puppy. "Just one drink!"

"I'm sorry." Kurt said, still staring over Blaine's shoulder, then finally looking back at him and feeling a little guilty. "I just won't be much… _fun_, tonight."

"Got it, totally got it." Blaine nodded, and Kurt smiled at him gratefully. "And hey, maybe I'll bump into you on Thursday." And the gratefulness was gone. Blaine grinned. "Maybe not. I'll see you around."

Kurt smiled tightly as Blaine left and Santana arrived, staring at Blaine's retreating figure. "Who was that? And where can I get one? Is he coming back?"

"No, he's not. I have to go." Kurt bolted before Santana could ask any questions, making his way towards Rachel and Matthew, who were talking and laughing a drinking and looking like they were having too much of a good time for Kurt's liking. He stood next to them and cleared his throat loudly, looking meaningfully at Rachel.

"It's late." Kurt said quickly, pointing at the door. "You must be exhausted, let's– do you wanna–"

"Let's go dancing!" Rachel said excitedly to Matthew, who chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"What? No, I don't–" Kurt huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Matthew, you don't want to–"

"Yeah, no, no, I'll go. Okay." Matthew smiled. "Yeah, but I've got to warn you, I'm a terrible dancer."

Kurt saw Rachel's face fall slightly, but then pick back up into that flirty smile. "Come on, no."

"No, it's true. In fact, on several occasions, they've had to call the paramedics."

Rachel laughed and her smile brightened. "Well, I'll just have to teach you then, won't I?"

Matthew chuckled. "Afraid so. You want to come, Kurt?"

"Um." Kurt hesitated, chancing a glance at Rachel, who was widening her eyes at him and shaking her head vigorously. "No. No. It's okay, you guys have good time."

"Okay!" Rachel said loudly, jumping up and grabbing Matthew's hand. "Let's go."

Matthew followed her, leaving Kurt standing and staring at their joined hands. Rachel looked back, mouthing 'thanks Kurt I love you', and skipped off with… with… _his freaking love._

* * *

><p>When Kurt got back to his apartment, he was ashamed to admit he checked through the peephole in the door every ten minutes to check if Rachel was there yet. Every time he was faced with the empty corridor, more thoughts ran through his head, what they could be doing, if they– if they <em>kissed<em> and oh, Kurt really couldn't think about that without feeling a little sick. Eventually, he went to bed, tossing and turning and imagining horrible scenarios with his best friend and the love of his life.

"Go to sleep, Kurt." He told himself. He leaned over and checked his clock on the bedside table. "3 AM?"

Kurt resolved to get up and work off some of his nervous energy. So he went into his living room, turned the light on and started flicking through Bridal magazines, perking up and watching the door whenever he thought he heard a noise.

He repeated his moisturising routine.

He did some work.

He did sit ups.

He cleaned the kitchen.

And finally, _finally, _at five damn o'clock in the morning, Rachel opens the door and practically dances in, sighing and looking at Kurt in surprise.

"You're still up?"

"Yeah… just, you know, doing some cleaning, channelling my inner chi."

Rachel sighed, wandering over to the couch as Kurt scrubbed ferociously at the stove. "Kurt, I had… the _best_ night ever."

"Oh, that's right." Kurt said through gritted teeth. "I totally forgot you went ou- ow!" He smacked his head on the cabinet as he tried to look at Rachel, who was frowning at him as if she was just realising something.

"Is that… weird for you?"

_No shit, Sherlock._

"Weird? No, psh, what?" Kurt said quickly. "Why would that be weird? He's my boss, I don't care."

"Okay, great, 'cause we're having lunch tomorrow." Rachel beamed.

"Ohthatissogreat!" Kurt said in the highest pitch he had ever heard himself speak in, and that was really saying something.

"Yeah, I think so too, except not quite at that decibel." Rachel said, smiling confusedly.

Kurt just forced a laugh, and went back to scrubbing.

"So tell me about Matthew."

Kurt turned to see Rachel leaning over the back of the couch, staring at him expectantly, and he relented.

"Oh, well… he… he, uh… well, he dropped out of college." Rachel looked a little disappointed, but nodded eagerly. "And then he climbed every major peak in the world." Kurt couldn't help the admiration creeping into his voice, and the fond smile on his face. "He worked at Vogue, as a designer, and made some of the most popular styles trend–" Kurt was about to list them, but he could already see that one going over Rachel's head. "And then worked his way up and is now the head of fashion. His clothing taste is incredible, and he loves his dog more than anything else in the world." He sighed. "His favourite food is cheeseburgers, and he loves bacon in his burrito even though he doesn't like to admit it. He's so… relaxed, and easy-going. And he'd rather spend all of his time outside then anywhere else."

"My God. He sounds amazing." Kurt was about to agree, until he saw the little love hearts in Rachel's eyes. "We would have such beautiful children."

"Uh… yeah." Kurt thought quickly. "Yeah, but he has flaws. He does, he is flawed." He nodded seriously.

Rachel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well… um." Kurt bit his lip. "He hates… cashews. Which is weird." Rachel raised her eyebrows. "And sometimes, he doesn't wear socks with sneakers." Kurt shrugged. "I just think that's gross."

Rachel laughed slightly. "Kurt, those aren't exactly deal-breakers."

Kurt also tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a strangled choking noise. "Deal? What– what deal?" He tried to smile. "I mean, nothing happened between the two of you tonight… did it?"

Rachel just attempted a coy smile and fluttered her eyelashes. "Well…"

Kurt felt sick. He stared at her, before regaining his ability to speak and forced out some words along the lines of. "Oh, I gotcha. Nice. Fun. Sounds… sounds fun."

Rachel just nodded and squealed a little, prancing to her bedroom as Kurt sank down on the couch, his head in his hands. Stupid Rachel. Stupid Matthew. Stupid, stupid, _stupid _Kurt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi! Thanks for the reviews, I love you guys :) emotional chapter coming up, and Kurt's life isn't really looking up, unfortunately. But have faith! Things will get better! Also, on a side note, Kurt's dog is named after Donnatella Versace. Just a little nugget of information there.**

**Reviews would be wonderful.**

**I don't own Glee or 27 Dresses.**

* * *

><p>"Dad?"<p>

Kurt pushed open the door of Hummel Tires & Lube, looking past various vehicles and toolboxes to find his father appearing from the back of a car.

"Oh, hey, son." Burt smiled and clapped Kurt on the back, and looked over to the door as the bell jingled and Rachel marched in. Burt did a double take, his eyes widening, as Rachel rushed over to him and he enveloped her in a large hug.

"Rachel!" She giggled as he pulled back and observed her. "Look at you!"

"Oh, Burt, this place looks exactly the same," she sighed, casting her eyes around the garage.

"Now that's not fair." Burt huffed. "I got a brand new awning, I just stripped and re-varnished all the woodwork– look, new cash register." He pointed, raising his eyebrows emphatically. "_Digital._"

"Wow, Burt, I'm sorry, I don't know how I missed all of these remarkable improvements." Rachel smiled.

"Give me that." He took Rachel's bag. "C'mon, let's go inside."

* * *

><p>"Here we go." Kurt placed a plate of teddy bear shaped soymilk pancakes on the table – his mother's old recipe – complete with strawberry noses and blueberry eyes on the table.<p>

"Aren't we a little old for these?" Rachel asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"_No_." Kurt insisted.

"Good, 'cause I love them." Rachel grinned, grabbing two for her plate.

"So, Rach, how long are you here for?" Burt asked, taking his own pancakes and removing the blueberries – much to Kurt's disapproval. He had to get back into hiding healthy things in his dad's food.

Rachel hesitated, glancing up at Kurt.

"One to two weeks, right? Isn't that what you said?" Kurt said, eyeing Rachel's guilty expression.

"Um, actually, it just depends on how a few things pan out." Rachel said quickly, fidgeting on her seat, but trying to hide a smile.

"What things? What –" Kurt paused, trying to hide his alarm. "What– what things? What's–"

But suddenly Idina Menzel's voice came blaring through the speakers of Rachel's cell phone, the lyrics to 'As Long As You're Mine' interrupting Kurt completely. _It's Matthew_, she mouthed at Kurt, beaming and picking up. "Hello? Hi!" She wandered into the living room, and Kurt visibly slumped down.

"Let me guess…" Burt sighed. "Some new guy is chasing after her?"

"I wouldn't… call it chasing." Kurt tried to laugh, but found it stuck in his throat as he watched Rachel giggle and lean back into the cough through the door.

"Kurt?" He jumped to see his father staring at him, concerned. "You okay?"

"Yeah!" Kurt said quickly, smiling tightly. "Yeah, no, great, fine. Everything's fine."

Burt just looked on suspiciously as his soon smeared another pancake with marmalade. Kurt didn't like marmalade.

* * *

><p>Kurt glared through the see-through walls of Matthew's office, watching Rachel bend over the desk and whisper and giggle with him, cursing whoever made them transparent. Previously he thanked whoever made this decision on a daily basis, noting that without them he would not be able to watch Matthew's arms as he stretched and flexed and did all sorts of delicious things, but personally he would rather give up a lifetime of that if he didn't have to watch Rachel kissing his ear.<p>

Kurt muttered annoyed nothings to himself as he flipped open his filofax, turning to today's date, just to gasp in horror.

Today's date was not there. The page had been taken from the diary. Not only that, but in thick black marker, 'BLAINE ANDERSON 917-555-0137' was written across the next three days. Kurt huffed in indignation, and flipped a few more pages, just to find Blaine Anderson's name written in that same thick black marker every Saturday… for the rest of the year.

Kurt groaned, and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in angrily.

"Y'ello?"

"You ripped a week out of my planner." Kurt hissed. "Are you insane?"

"It's kind of a little experiment." The annoyingly bright voice on the other end of the line said. "See how you do without every second of your life mapped out. By the way, your life is insane. What do you do besides work and help people get married?"

"Yeah, you know, I really don't see how that's any of your business." Kurt said, irritated.

"And how do you afford these weddings? I mean, the suits, the airfares, the wine of the month clubs?" Blaine asked.

"Hey, people love those gifts." Kurt said defensively. "I'm a frequent member so sometimes they throw in a free gewurztraminer."

"Wow. That is terribly sad. I'm sorry." Blaine laughed that annoyingly cheerful laugh. "But look, I wanna make it up to you, okay? A new datebook or… maybe just a date?"

Kurt laughed in disbelief. "Uh, yeah, sure, let me just pencil you in except hey! You already did, every Saturday for the rest of the _year_." Kurt could practically hear Blaine's grin on the other end. "You know what, can you please, _please_ find someone else to be creepy with?"

"Nope." Blaine said happily. "But hey, anytime you wanna hang out with somebody who doesn't need you to take them to a fitting or a cake-tasting or a coed mojito and burrito rehearsal dinner, you just… give me a call."

"Yeah, okay." Kurt said sarcastically and slammed the phone down, already involuntarily picturing Blaine's smug grin as he did so.

"Ugh, _God._" Kurt made a frustrated noise and got up, just to be faced with the small, Mexican boy that often entered the office.

"Hey!" Pedro said.

"Hi!" Kurt returned, grinning, approaching him with his arms open, but then hesitated. "Oh, are you getting too old for hugs?"

He deliberated. "Nah."

"Thank you." Kurt said and hugged the twelve year old.

"Hey, Pedro!" Matthew emerged from his office with Rachel, and gave Pedro a really cute (in Kurt's opinion) bro-hug. "So this is Pedro," he explained to Rachel. "He's my, uh…"

"I'm his little brother."

Rachel looked hilariously perplexed.

"From the big brother program at the Y." Matthew explained quickly, relieved at the understanding that crossed Rachel's face soon after. "Pedro, Rachel happens to be Kurt's best friend from school."

Rachel smiled patronisingly, and bent down to eye level with the boy. "Hola, Pedro!" She said loudly and slowly. Pedro gave Matthew a look that clearly read 'what the hell?'

"Uh… yeah. Um, look Kurt, Rachel and I are going to take Pedro to his baseball game if you want to join us?" Matthew offered.

"Oh, I can't," Kurt thought quickly to think of an excuse that got him out of watching Rachel suck face with Matthew. "I have so much work to do, I should really stay here."

"Are you kidding me, Kurt?" Matthew said, chuckling. "Look, your boss is a jerk anyhow, just come with us, I don't want to have to fire you."

Kurt had to laugh at that. "Okay." He said, but the smile fell from his face when he saw Rachel take Matthew's hand.

* * *

><p>Kurt stood by, feeling very much like the third wheel as Rachel and Matthew chatted amicably in the line to the food stand.<p>

"Hey, can I get three diet Cokes and…" He trailed off, looking at the other two.

"Garden salad." Kurt said quickly, bouncing on his toes and looking to Rachel for confirmation of the same. "You want a salad too?"

"Uh, no, actually…" She glanced quickly at Matthew. "I'll have a cheeseburger, please. My favourite." She laughed. Kurt laughed too, albeit a confused one.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked.

"That's your favourite?" Matthew asked.

"Oh yes." Rachel said. "I love nothing more that a good cheeseburger."

"Oh really?" Kurt said, arching an eyebrow. "Not a vegan burger or anything?"

Matthew laughed. "Ew. Vegan meat." Rachel nodded in agreement. "That's actually my favourite too. I could never handle vegetarianism, let alone being a vegan."

"Oh, I know." Rachel said seriously. "I mean, every time I go hiking I have to bring my own ham sandwiches, all those guys are veggies."

Kurt's eyebrows had, by this point, risen so high that they were in danger of disappearing under his hairline. He knew for a fact that Rachel had never set foot on a hiking trail in her _life_. She had, in fact, stated on several occasions, that this kind of sport was pointless and works up too much of a sweat, and she would much rather exercise on a treadmill in the comfort of her own home while listening to her own music.

"You go hiking?" Matthew asked, surprised.

"Uh huh." Rachel lied shamelessly.

"I mean, no offence, but you hardly seem like the kind of girl that hits the trails, especially in those shoes." He said.

Kurt frowned. Normally he would have thought those Mary Janes would actually not be so bad for walking miles. But when he took a look at his friend's feet, he was astonished to see the highest, and actually _nicest_ shoes he had ever seen on Rachel. She hated heels! She had claimed them 'sure fire ways of damaging your ankles, and _then_ how am I going to do my dance routines?' But now, those actually looked like shoes straight out of this month's _Vogue_.

"I can see how you would think that," Rachel said, linking her arm in Matthew's eagerly. "But actually I love all that outdoorsy stuff. You know, hiking and biking and climbing… up… things."

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"But to tell you the truth, I haven't been hiking since… well, since my dog died."

Kurt nearly choked on his Coke. Rachel never had a dog! She had, in fact, _despised_ Kurt's dog that he had when he was little. Rachel was deathly afraid of the thing, and was constantly worried that poor Donna was going to get hairs all over her stuff. When she had died, Kurt was absolutely devastated, but Rachel was over the moon. They never got a dog again because Rachel claimed to hate the animals.

"Kurt and I had this dog growing up… Dora." Kurt, again, just saved himself from spitting his drink on himself. "I just loved him. We always used to go on nature hikes and climbing adventures… not a day goes by that I don't think about that bag of fleas." Rachel was obviously putting all her acting skills into looking as sad and reminiscent as possible. "Good old Dora."

"Hey Kurt, how come you never mentioned Dora?" Matthew asked.

"I don't know." Kurt said, raising an eyebrow at Rachel. "I guess I must have repressed the memory of… _Donna._"

Rachel looked panicked for a second, but it quickly fell away. "Yes, her name was Donna, but I used to call her Dora because I had a lisp." Rachel smiled and nodded.

"A lisp that turned your n's to r's?" Kurt asked dryly.

"You know what, when I was a kid I had a stutter." Matthew said. Kurt, for a moment, felt his heart melting at the admission, but quickly stopped when he remembered it was only because of Rachel's lies he had revealed this.

"No way!" Rachel said happily. "We have more things in common than I thought."

"Yeah, me too." Kurt said.

"I'm gonna go out and shag some flies with Pedro." Matthew said, putting down his burger and getting up.

"Ooh, I'm jealous. It sounds fun!" She called to him, and then turned to Kurt. "What are shagging flies?"

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked bluntly.

"What?"

"You hate dogs and meat and… being outside!" He said.

"No, I like yachts, I like flowers, and I _do_ like dogs. I just don't like them being near me. But I love all animals." She insisted.

"You hated Donna." Kurt said. "You _hated_ her, you only care about animals on principal. You're only saying all this stuff because Matthew is so… attractive." He sighed longingly, but then caught himself. "Or some people think he is."

"I did not hate that dog. I just hated it when she slobbered on me." Rachel said simply. "And I could like animals products and hiking if I tried it. Maybe."

"So you're giving up all your principles and morals just to be with Matthew?" Kurt asked.

But before she had time to answer, Matthew was turning back to her from the pitch. "Hey Rach, what do you say you come out here, let's see that arm."

"Ooh, fun." Rachel giggled. "Are we going to shag now?"

Kurt just rolled his eyes, glaring at her untouched cheeseburger.

He looked over at the pitch to see Matthew stand behind Rachel, with his arms around her as he showed her how to hold the bat, and watching as she giggled girlishly and Matthew pressed himself closer to her.

* * *

><p>The next few days were hell for Kurt. Rachel and Matthew seemed to be progressing <em>far <em>too quickly for his liking, and every day flowers would arrive at his apartment which he would have to hand to Rachel, just to have her declare they were from Matthew and oh, wasn't he wonderful?

Whenever Kurt dropped something off at his desk, he would see Rachel smiling at him from Matthew's desktop wallpaper, his screensaver, that photo frame on his desk that Kurt had gotten him for his last birthday.

He would come home to find the two making out – on _his _couch - and would promptly leave before he had time to picture himself in Rachel's place.

Matthew even got invited round for Friday night dinner with Burt, who had found him quite charming and polite, but had expressed his worry to Kurt that it seemed like his son didn't get on with Rachel's new boyfriend.

"Do you not like him?" His dad had asked.

God, Kurt fucking wished.

* * *

><p>Santana had found out about Kurt's… <em>situation<em>, when at Tina's wedding, during the vows, Kurt had looked over to Rachel and Matthew in the pews. He had his Goth suit and eyeliner on, and made a rock sign with his fingers at them. Matthew had made one back, and it had made Kurt smile until Rachel took the hand in hers and told him that it meant 'I love you' in sign language.

"I love you too, Rachel." Kurt heard Matthew say, feeling his heart squeeze uncomfortably and his breathing stop. When they began kissing in the middle of the ceremony, he let out the breath so loudly that Santana turned to frown at him, and then followed his line of sight. Her mouth dropped open and her face showed such disgust, that Kurt had never loved her more.

* * *

><p>Kurt sat down at his desk to see a post-it note – 'Drinks? – Blaine' it had said, with a small paper umbrella taped on it. This would have been adorably dorky, had it been anyone else, but Kurt wanted nothing to do with Blaine, so he just sighed and took it down, stuffing it in his pocket.<p>

"Kurt?" Matthew called from outside the room. He got up quickly and hurried over to see him dressed in the nicest outfit Kurt had over seen, holding two wonderful ties. "Which one sucks less?"

"This one." Kurt selected the more expensive looking of the two, and Matthew took it and put it around his neck.

"Thanks." He said. "Uh, would you mind again?" He gestured to the tie.

"No!" Kurt said quickly, taking the tie and starting to do it up. "I do it for my dad all the time." He smiled, looping it into a Windsor. "You okay? You seem a little bit nervous."

"Yeah, no, I'm…" He sighed, smiling slightly. "I'm cool."

Kurt just nodded, patting down his collar.

"How does it look?" He asked.

"Great." Kurt smiled, having to stop himself from saying 'gorgeous', or 'ravishing'.

Kurt stayed late that night, clearing up the last few things and dropping them on Matthew's desk, when he noticed his wallet lying there. He picked it up, and examined the schedule for that day that also lay on the desk. It seemed that he had a restaurant booking that started ten minutes ago… well, he wouldn't last long without his wallet, would?

"Delmonico's, please." Kurt said as he got into his cab.

* * *

><p>He entered the building to be greeted with a mariachi band, roses and two men holding a red scroll. He inhaled quickly. <em>This is beautiful…<em>

The men dropped the scroll, and Kurt gasped.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Matthew appeared from behind a corner. "Oh hey, guys, guys, hold it, he's not the one, he's not the one."

There were no words to explain just how much those words hurt Kurt. When he saw the words on the scroll, a tiny part of him flashed back to all those fantasies of this moment he had thought about in the past few years. And then… 'he's not the one'. He never was.

The men quickly rolled the sign in again.

"Hey." Matthew said to Kurt.

"Hey, I'm so sorry, I should have called, but… you forgot your wallet." Kurt said helplessly, handing it to him.

"Oh, um, thanks." Matthew said, examining Kurt's eyes with concern. Like he knew.

But before he could say anything, Rachel came in; wearing a short dress that Kurt knew for a fact she would never have worn a few months previously. "Hey, sorry I'm late." She said.

"Hey, guys, now, now." Matthew said quickly, and the men dropped the scroll and the music started playing again.

Rachel looked around, her eyes widening and beginning to shine. "Kurt, what's going on?"

But Kurt simply could not form any words. Luckily, Matthew whistled, and Tommy ran in and let Matthew pet him, while dropping a small box into his hand. Matthew straightened up and approached Rachel while Kurt's stomach dropped to the floor.

Kurt edged away slowly, trying to hide behind the band as Matthew got Rachel to sit down, and kneeled in front of her. Rachel gasped. _Oh God, this can't be happening_…

"Rachel." Matthew began softly, as Kurt tried to get away but found himself trapped between musicians. "My parents met playing hopscotch when they were like, eight, and they were married for forty two years, and I've been waiting my whole life to feel the way my dad felt about my mom, and maybe I've been too busy trying to make something of myself that I miss some of these moments. But the second that I saw you I knew we could be great together. So, um…"

Kurt looked over to the couple, his eyes beginning to burn. _Don't cry, don't cry…_

"Rachel Berry," Matthew opened the box to show a beautiful silver, sparkling ring. Rachel gasped loudly and beamed at him. "Will you marry me?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi chums! Right, so this chapter is fairly short, but I wanted to have time to do my homework before watching the new episode of GLEE! It's airing tonight in the UK, so feel free to rave about it to me as I will have seen it be the time I read any reviews or anything. I wanted this chapter done today because I'm doing a 10km walk for charity tomorrow so I'd probably be too tired to bother with it until Saturday, so you guys get it earlier. Reviews would be awesome, even if it's just your opinions on the Purple Piano Project :D**

**Don't own, don't sue me, I only get £16 a month. **

* * *

><p>Kurt froze as Matthew smiled nervously, still holding the ring and looking at Rachel's overjoyed expression.<p>

"Yes, of course I'll marry you!" She breathed, giggling as Matthew slipped on the ring and she admired its shimmering beauty in the dim light. "Oh, Matthew." She took his face in her hands and kissed him hard, Kurt feeling his stomach plummeting so quickly turned away, staring at the curtains until the noises stopped.

Rachel was engaged.

Rachel was engaged to Matthew.

_Matthew._

Kurt blinked rapidly to stop the hot tears he could feel bubbling up inside of him. This always happened. Always. It was always Rachel; she got everything, the solos, the sympathy, the job and the love. _Kurt_ was better at relationships than Rachel. _Kurt_ never broke anyone's heart. _Kurt_ was the one whose mother died, who gave up the audition for Broadway to take care of his dad. Why was Rachel destined to be the bride, and Kurt, who had done everything right, was going to have to plan her wedding with the man that he loved?

It wasn't fair.

* * *

><p>Once Kurt had time to cool off, and left the restaurant swiftly so as to not have to witness any more kissing or sickly sweet whisperings, he went home, went to bed and cried. He let the hurt from the past twenty-five years come out, silent tears streaming over ice cream and Judy Garland. He hadn't allowed himself to cry since he was sixteen, and it was about time for a release.<p>

The next morning, when he was feeling considerably better, he got a call from Rachel ordering him to meet her and Matthew at his dad's house for the announcement. He thought he could handle it, but just the sight of the couple's linked hands with the sparkling ring glinting at him mockingly was enough to send him practically toppling onto an armchair as Rachel presented her hand to Burt.

"I'm engaged!" She exploded, squealing as Matthew kissed her cheek and Burt examined the ring, his eyes wide.

"Wow." He said, nodding slowly, and Kurt hated the part of himself that secretly hoped his dad wouldn't approve and wouldn't allow her to marry him. "That's quite – that's quite something. Congratulations, kids." He nodded at Matthew, finally smiling. "Wait, does this mean you're moving back here?"

Rachel glanced at Matthew, beaming. "Yep!"

"Wow, well, I don't know what to say. First you give Kurt a job and then you get Rach to move back home – Matthew, you're my hero, I mean it." Burt shook Matthew's hand firmly, smiling.

"Thank you." Matthew said genuinely. "You have a pretty great guy and girl here." He said, looking lovingly at Rachel, who sighed dreamily. Kurt just gave a small smile.

"Just a second, I wanna get something." Burt said, going out of the room as Matthew whispered in Rachel's ear. "Don't go anywhere."

"I'm so excited that we did this today." Rachel said, beaming. "I'm so happy."

Kurt looked away from the pair, wanting to see anything but their love-struck faces, but then when he was faced with the image of his dad he realised he would watch the hearts in Rachel's eyes forever if it would stop this happening.

His dad was carrying him mother's wedding dress.

Kurt felt as if the floor disappeared beneath him – was he –?

"Burt!" Rachel gasped, getting up and taking the dress from him.

"She would have wanted you to have it." Burt said as Rachel embraced him.

"Thank you," she whispered, stroking the material. Kurt knew his mouth was hanging wide open but he didn't care – this dress was being worn again? By _Rachel?_ His mother got married in that dress, and they were just going to reuse it like it was some kind of recyclable garbage? He shuddered as he realised that his mother's wedding dress was going to be used for a wedding built on lies and deceit. "You don't mind, right Kurt?"

_Yes of course I mind, you lying, manipulative –_

"No. No, no." Kurt found himself saying.

"I mean, you said it was beautiful, right?" _Oh God, she doesn't even like the dress. She said it was horrible._

"No that's good, it's right, that's what Mom would've – Mom would've wanted that." Kurt said, in a strange voice that didn't feel like his own. He got up to hug Rachel quickly before walking away to hear her launch into a story to Matthew about his mother's wedding, like she knew more about it than anyone else.

She was getting married. In his mother's wedding dress. In New York City. To _Matthew._

Everything that could possibly go wrong absolutely was, so when Kurt went into work that day to find a red rose with a note from Blaine attached to it, he took out his phone and dialled the number scribbled in his filofax, vowing that this would be the only time.

* * *

><p>Kurt swung open the door of the building, dressed in his nicest jeans and tightest shirt, his hair tousled and messy, to find Blaine sitting at the bar, wearing ridiculously tight red pants and sipping a drink. Kurt slid onto the seat next to him, trying his hardest to ignore all the signs that screamed 'HOT!' at him and focusing on his memories of a different part of his brain screaming 'JERK!'<p>

"Hi!" Blaine said happily, as if he had been doubtful to whether Kurt would turn up or not.

"Hey." Kurt said flatly.

"How are you?" Blaine said, seemingly genuinely interested, leaning his chin on one hand and blinking those big brown eyes at him.

"Uh," Kurt found himself smiling for the first time in days, even if was a slightly confused one. "Fine."

"Anything going on in your life right now?" Blaine asked casually.

"What?" Kurt frowned at him. "Why?"

"Uh, so, I'm just trying to figure out why you decided to meet with me. I mean, you were ducking me, and then all of a sudden–"

"My best friend's getting married." Kurt interrupted, not quite managing to keep he waver out of his voice.

"Ah, before you?"

"That's not what I'm upset about."

"Well, what are you upset about?" Blaine asked, chewing on peanuts while Kurt considered how to answer this. There was no way he was telling him about Matthew.

"Uh…" He said, thinking quickly. "You don't know Rachel, she's going to want me to do everything for her. I'm not just going to be the best man, I'm going to be taking care of…" Kurt tried to look fake annoyed. "Everything."

Blaine looked at him. "Why don't you just say no?"

Kurt turned to face him, eyeing him incredulously. "What?"

"Say no." Blaine said simply, as Kurt just frowned slightly. Blaine grinned, raising his eyebrows. "You have said no to people before, haven't you?"

Kurt scoffed. "Yes, of course. Many, many times, when the situation–" He looked at Blaine, who was still raising his eyebrows. Kurt sighed. "Never. Not once."

"Ah, but you _want_ to say no." Blaine said, pointing a finger at Kurt.

Kurt laughed. "Oh, but I can't. She's like my sister."

"But you can say no, _because_ she's like your sister– okay, look." Blaine raised his hands in a surrendering sign. "You know what we're gonna do?" He clapped his hands together as Kurt raised an eyebrow. "We're gonna practise, alright? We're gonna practise saying no."

Kurt just looked at him sceptically.

"You think I'm kidding? Turn around, c'mon. We're gonna play this game." Blaine insisted. "Humour me."

Kurt swivelled in his seat reluctantly so that he was facing Blaine completely, whose arms were wide and open, tilting his head at Kurt with a smile.

"Alright." He began. "Kurt, give me fifty bucks."

"_No._" Kurt said defiantly.

Blaine frowned. "C'mon, Kurt, it's fifty bucks, I'll pay you back."

Kurt shook his head. "No." He said proudly.

Blaine just paused for a moment, before doing something very odd.

He took Kurt's hand and his, and stared into his eyes deeply, his long, dark eyelashes blinking slowly. "Kurt." He said softly. Kurt found himself entranced by those hazel eyes, and just stared back, his lips parting slightly. "I need you…" Kurt gulped, holding his breath. "…to give me fifty bucks."

Kurt hesitated. "…No?"

Blaine held his gaze for a moment, before shrugging and letting go of his hand. Kurt found himself missing the warmth. "Yeah, not bad."

Kurt turned back as Blaine took another handful of peanuts. "Can I have your drink?"

"Sure." Kurt said absently, and Blaine took it and gulped it down, grinning triumphantly, before Kurt realised his mistake. "No!" Blaine made a victorious noise around the drink. "Oh, no."

"You were doing so well!" Blaine grinned, and Kurt felt himself giggling, genuinely laughing for the first time in weeks.

"That's terrible." Blaine pointed to the drink.

"Mhm." Kurt agreed, turning to smile gratefully at Blaine, who simply smiled back, before launching into more jokes and stories. He may hate weddings, Kurt thought, but he's sure making me feel better about Rachel's.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi. Okay, I know a lot of you probably skip over author's notes, not gonna lie, I do too, but please read this. I just wanted to be clear that the characters in this are definitely OOC. I mean, at least for now. The Kurt we know isn't a pushover like Jane from the movie, but everything will be explained later on in the story. Rachel is kind of mean and manipulative in this, but everything she does here I do believe she is capable of doing while still being herself. It's just pretty much all her bitchier side right now. That will be explained too. I also got a review saying that they hated Kurt's character and that he's sad. I would have liked to have replied directly but it was anonymous, so I'd just like to say that yes, he is sad, but that is in keeping with the story. And he is sad for a reason. I'm not sure if the reviewer was making an observation or a complaint, but if it bothers you, I'm sorry, but that is the way the story goes, and that is the way I think Kurt would feel. **

**Alright! So, on a happier note, I got lots of lovely reviews for the last chapter, so thank you. It means a lot. I hope you enjoy this part. **

**I don't own.**

* * *

><p>"So you went by the flower shop?"<p>

"Yep." Kurt nodded, as he and Rachel walked along the river in the park, she with her pink notebook and fluffy pen out.

"And ordered the favors?" Rachel asked, ticking another box in her notebook.

"Uh huh."

"What about the invitation mock-ups?"

"Done." Kurt said. "Classy cream with gold accents."

"This is so much fun!" Rachel squealed. "Everybody is going to see how legendary our love is."

"With the invitation mock-ups?" Kurt asked dryly.

"They're going to see how perfect and elegant we are together. How we are meant to be." Clearly Rachel had not sensed her friend's sarcasm. Kurt merely nodded and let her gush.

"Did I tell you I asked Amy to be a bridesmaid?" Rachel asked him.

"Who?" Kurt frowned.

"You know, your second cousin. Twice removed. She went to the same musical theatre group we did in senior year." Rachel reminded him airily,

Kurt gritted his teeth, memories suddenly coming flooding back. Rachel _knew_ he and Amy didn't get on. He thought quickly to find a kinder alternative. "What about Gabi? Your cousin Gabi?"

"Oh, no way, she's _so_ pregnant, it'll just throw off the aesthetics. She's not even my cousin biologically anyway." Rachel said, waving a hand. Kurt had to fight not to remind her that she wasn't related to Amy either. "I'm sorry, I know you don't love Amy."

"What's not to love about a woman who told me I sang like a pre-teen girl and looked like an elf all through senior year?"

"Just don't listen to her, elves are cute." Rachel said dismissively, waving a hand at Kurt's face. He frowned.

"Now as for the third bridesmaid," Rachel said seriously, "I want you to ask Santana, I know we haven't spoken in years but I want her to come."

Kurt managed to choke on air. "_Santana_?"

"Yeah." Rachel nodded decisively.

"_My_ Santana? The one who slept with Finn before you did?" Rachel flinched at the mention of Finn, but just shrugged it off.

"Yeah, she's still really pretty, she can pull off the strapless." Rachel said, Kurt sensing her 'whatever, I don't care' voice.

"And you want her at your _wedding_?"

"Look, I don't want Matthew to think I have no friends, okay? She's into fashion anyway, maybe she can give me some pointers."

"You want to change the way you – wait, _I'm_ into fashion, Rachel." Kurt said, a little hurt, even though his disapproval of Rachel's ideas for a new look was clear.

"Yeah, but you're a _man._" Rachel said, as if it were obvious. Kurt was still offended. He had been trying to get Rachel to let him get her new clothes for _forever,_ and suddenly she wanted tips from a girl she once hated? "I just don't have that many girlfriends. For some reason, girls don't really like me. I don't know why."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Will you just ask her?" Rachel pleaded.

Kurt nearly protested, but stopped himself and took a deep breath. _Rachel's wedding, not yours._ "Sure. Of course."

"Oh, and I also want a slideshow at the rehearsal dinner, you know, put pictures of Matthew and I together and say funny things? Play romantic music in the background, talk about our shared interests and how perfect we are for each other?" Rachel enthused.

"Okay." Kurt managed a laugh.

"Oh, and guess what? That writer you obsess about, he wants to do a whole Commitments column on us in the Journal, he called me, can you believe it?" Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, taking this information in. His favourite writer was doing a column on Rachel and Matthew. Fantastic.

"At this point, I absolutely can."

"Listen, um, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I think you're right." Kurt raised an eyebrow at Rachel. "I think it would be so special if I did a wedding just like Mom and Burt's."

When, exactly, had Kurt said this?

"Just like?" He asked carefully.

"You know, especially since I'm wearing her dress." Rachel said, as they walked along the park to face the lake across from it. "Ta-da!" She threw her arms out at the opposite side of the water. Kurt followed her gaze and gasped.

"A boathouse?" He whispered.

"Uh huh! Doesn't it look just like theirs?" Rachel squealed, clapping her hands. "At first when I called they said they had no availability for eighteen months, but the ninth time I called, they said they had a cancellation. Apparently the bride slept with the groom's father and brother and sister and all these people. So, obviously, it got canceled and they were all devastated, it was just like a TV show." She said excitedly, and Kurt rolled his eyes again. "But which means... we're getting married in three weeks!"

Kurt choked out a small laugh as Rachel pulled him into an excited hug. "Three weeks?"

"Oh Kurt, I know you can pull it together quickly! And I didn't want to wait that long anyway. We know we're in love, so why delay, right?"

Kurt said nothing, but stared at the boathouse across the lake. Mom's dress, the boathouse… Kevin Anderson's column…

"Uh, you could be a little excited for me." Rachel huffed, and Kurt started.

"No, I am." Kurt said quickly. "I am, it's just…" He glanced over at the boathouse again.

"You wanted to get married in a boathouse, with the column, and have someone who loves you." Rachel said sympathetically.

"No, I just…" Kurt sighed. "I didn't know that this is what you wanted. But if it is… then I just want you to be happy. You know that."

"Great!" Rachel said, clapping her hands and beginning to walk again. "Now can we talk about more important things? I really do not like the linens, I think we need to rent new ones. They do not go with the new colour scheme I picked out, they only go with your old one…"

* * *

><p>"That selfish whore!"<p>

Kurt winced as the room full of people, and the yoga teacher, turned around from their sun position to glare at them. "Namaste." He whispered quickly as he bent over.

"I can't believe it. I cannot believe it. There is no man that won't fall for her. Even a reasonably hot and sane guy like Matthew. Men just become hypnotised by her voodoo and insane chirpiness and they lose their minds." Santana said angrily as the yoga instructor shot her a disapproving look. "You can't plan your best friend's wedding with the man you love; it's sick." She hissed.

"To be fair, she didn't know how I felt about him." Kurt said, moving into downwards dog. "And nor should she. He's my boss." He sighed. "I'm just going to have to get over it. I don't really have a choice. And neither do you, she wants you to be a bridesmaid."

Santana then got out of her position, stood up and turned to face Kurt. "You are shitting me." She said loudly, to many shushes from other women, which she ignored.

"Please?" Kurt begged.

"No. No, I won't do it. On principle." Santana said, holding her head high and bending her front leg, stretching her arms out. "I say no on principle. No. You can count me out."

"Please?" Kurt said again. "Please don't leave me alone in this. Please, please?"

Santana sighed heavily. "Fine. Because it's you. But if she crosses me, I'm gonna kick her ass." Santana said fiercely. "And then I'm gonna kick your ass, and then I'm gonna have a couple drinks –"

She was interrupted by the loud gong ringing across the room as the instructor smacked it, frowning at her.

"There's no sign that says 'no talking'." Santana muttered.

* * *

><p>Kurt waited patiently for the chef to process his instructions.<p>

"Three weeks? It cannot be done." He said defiantly. "It is not enough time for one of my creations!"

Kurt just tilted his head at the Italian man patronizingly. "Okay, um, Antione, remember when I brought you the Schecters... and they commissioned that six-tiered, heart-shaped masterpiece? Then, of course, the tower of edible gifts... for the Schifman-Guardino outdoor fiesta." Kurt laughed as Antione began to smile slightly. "You can do anything, and we both know it. You're gonna do the cake, and you're gonna do it in three weeks - and I would like a discount, please."

"Three weeks?" Kurt nodded. "It pleases me."

Kurt grinned. "Delightful." He turned to Rachel and Matthew. "We have a cake!"

Kurt jumped when he heard a loud clapping from the doorway, and turned to see… Blaine?

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked him, only to be completely ignored as Blaine walked up to Rachel and Matthew, sticking his hand out for them to shake.

"Hey, I'm Kevin Anderson." He said, grinning cheerfully.

"What?" Kurt said blankly.

"Oh yes!" Rachel said. "I didn't want to believe it until you were here! Um, this is my fiancé Matthew."

"Hi, congratulations to the both of you," Blaine– Kevin? Shook his hand as Rachel smiled happily.

"Thank you," She said, as Matthew's phone began to ring.

"Oh, babe, I've gotta take this, alright?" He smiled at Rachel as she nodded and Kurt's insides twisted at the word 'babe'. "If there's a cake emergency… I'm right over here."

"Oh, this is Kurt, my best friend." Rachel motioned to Kurt and Blaine finally turned to look at him, amused. "He's obsessed with your stories." Kurt forced a chuckle as he felt the heat rise to his cheeks, as Blaine's eyes twinkled.

"He keeps them but pretends he doesn't, but he does." Rachel continued.

"Okay." Kurt said quickly, trying to subtly glare at Rachel. Blaine just looked at Kurt, grinning happily, a surprised and very pleased look on his annoyingly handsome features.

"He's your number one fan!" Rachel said, as Blaine smirked at him. She glanced back to see Kurt glaring at her. "Not in a creepy way, though." She added quickly.

"Right." Blaine smiled.

Kurt walked up to Blaine, his jaw set. "You said your name was Blaine. As in… Blaine."

"Well, I use Kevin for the byline so I don't get stalked by crazy brides." Blaine chuckled. "So how did you meet Matthew?" He asked Rachel, completely ignoring the way Kurt's mouth had fallen open.

"You're an asshole." Kurt stated.

"Kurt!" Rachel gasped.

"What? I'm sorry, he said his name was Blaine, it's just, I'm a little bit confused." Kurt said. Rachel frowned.

"Wait… you two know each other?"

"We both work the wedding circuit, so…" Blaine smirked at Kurt as Rachel nodded slowly and Kurt forced a laugh.

"Can you just– give us one second, I'm just gonna go over there, talk about you." He told Rachel, who seemed satisfied by this and let Kurt drag Blaine away to the corner of the bakery.

Kurt just stood and stared at Blaine for a moment, who merely stared back.

"You lied to me." Kurt said bluntly.

"No." Blaine disagreed. "I told you I was a writer, I didn't tell you what I wrote." He said triumphantly.

"But… you write the most beautiful things." Kurt said softly. "Do you actually believe in love and marriage and just pretend to by a cynic, or are you actually a cynic who just knows how to spin romantic crap for people like me?"

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly. "I… didn't follow that at all. But I think the second one? The spinning crap one?"

Kurt sighed helplessly, blinking sadly. "Oh my God." He breathed. "I feel like I just found out my favourite love song was written about a sandwich."

Blaine nodded slightly, amused.

"Um, can I steal you away to tell you about Matthew and I?" Rachel interrupted, tugging on Blaine's arm, who obliged.

"Sure, of course. That's why I'm here." Blaine smiled pleasantly.

Kurt just sighed. This just keeps getting worse and worse.

* * *

><p>Kurt peered through the peephole in the door after hearing the knocking, only to find Blaine Anderson, the crap-spinner, standing outside.<p>

"Ugh, what? Rachel's not here." He told him through the door.

"Uh, actually, I'm here to see you." Blaine called.

"Why?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

"I have to talk to all of the friends and family." Blaine said. "From what I hear, you're both."

Kurt wrinkled his nose.

"C'mon, it'll only take five minutes." Blaine said. "For Rachel and Matthew?"

Kurt scoffed, but opened the door nevertheless. Blaine smiled.

"Thank you." He said sweetly.

Kurt just raised his eyebrows.

"Uh… may I come in?" Blaine asked.

"You just ask me what you want to ask me. Or would you prefer to lie some more?" Kurt snapped.

"I didn't lie to you! I don't know why you keep saying that. I may have left out a couple of details–"

Kurt just sighed and stepped away from the door. "Can we just get this over with please?"

Blaine stepped into the house and pulled out a voice recorder. "The best man is a peculiar young gentleman." He said into it, following Kurt into his living room. "So how do you feel about Rachel's whirlwind romance?"

"Couldn't be happier." Kurt said tonelessly. "She's like my kid sister, I taught her how to tell the time, how to ride a bike… how to steam flounder in the dishwasher. I mean, I practically raised her." He put a hand over his mouth. "Oh, please don't print that. That would kill her dads."

Blaine nodded wandering around the room, before catching sight of Kurt's closet.

"Wait, what are those?" He asked, pointing at the outfits spilling out of the closet.

Kurt paled, but tried to look nonchalant. "Nothing."

"Are those–?"

"No!" Kurt raced past Blaine, who was wandering towards the closet, interest in his eyes. He tried desperately to close it as Blaine tried to pull it pen.

"Are these groomsman suits?" Blaine asked.

Kurt bit his lip. Damn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Look at me, updating so soon. Right, IMPORTANT QUESTION. **

**In the bit that I am planning to write next chapter, there is a sex scene. I was just wondering if you guys would prefer me to be vague and leave it out, or actually write the smut and change this to an M. I've never written smut before, so I can't say it'll be good, but I'll give it a go if you would want that. Please tell me! I will go with the majority, so sorry if it's not what you want, but if I do write it and you decide to skip it, everything will still make sense since they skip it in the movie. So please give me your answers!**

**Thank you for all the reviews of last chapter, I'm so glad you're enjoying. I hope you like this part, it was super fun to write.**

**I don't own Klaine or 27 Dresses.**

* * *

><p>Kurt tried to force Blaine off his closet door, prying his fingers off only to have his hands removed and the door pulled further open.<p>

"This is none of your business!" Kurt hissed, as Blaine finally overpowered him and the door swung open, revealing suit after suit stuffed into the small space, bags and hats dangling from the doors.

"Oh, good God." Blaine laughed disbelievingly. "What– you kept them all? You have a whole closet full, why?"

"I have a lot of friends and I like to keep them." Kurt tried to defend.

"Right." Blaine said amazedly. "Well that makes complete sense because they're– they're…" He fingered some frilly material behind Kurt. "They're beautiful."

"Some of them are not that bad." Kurt argued, slapping his hand away.

"Not that bad?" Blaine's eyes widened as he began to smile slightly. "I'd like to see one that's not that bad."

Kurt huffed, shaking his head. "_Fine_." He turned to his clothes. "Um, well, not that one," he pushed the frilly one away, scanning the contents of the closet. "This one!" He grabbed a deep green, very tight, shiny pants and shirt. "This one… is really…"

"Horrible?" Blaine interrupted, staring at the suit. "Horrible, that's the word you're looking for, right?" Kurt couldn't help but inwardly agree – it was rather awful – but needed to defend his precious closet against Mr crap-spinner. "What colour is this, vomit?"

"What– no, this is an olive green, it's very in. And I'm telling you, it looks great on."

"Uh, no." Blaine grabbed the suit from him. "And I'm telling you that this is an instrument of torture, inflicted on you by a bride who wants you to look ugly."

"No, Jenna picked it because it looks good on everybody." Kurt said, grabbing it back. Blaine took his voice recorder out again, pressing the button.

"Slightly delusional and will believe anything anyone tells him." He said into it. Kurt gaped, then grabbed his hand and spoke into it too.

"That is not true, and I'm going to show you that you are wrong." Kurt took the suit and marched off to the bathroom, slamming the door and stripping quickly, leaving Blaine outside. He heard the beeping of his camera as he buttoned the shirt, which seemed to be tighter and had less buttons than he remembered.

"See?" Kurt said as he opened the door again to face Blaine. "It is not that bad. The sleeves are actually very flatter–"

He was cut off by the beep and flash of Blaine's camera, and looked up, surprised, to see it pointing at him.

"Alright, you are totally right about the suit, it is not that bad, but come on," Blaine held the camera up to Kurt to give him a look. "The colour, really?"

"Well," Kurt said, frowning at the picture. "It's your flash, I think it's blowing it out weird, if it were just a normal– okay, it's not very good." Kurt admitted reluctantly. Blaine grinned.

"And you kind of look like a shiny merman." Blaine smiled, and Kurt laughed a little. "But you should be flattered, she didn't want her groom to stand next to a tall, handsome guy and have you actually looking decent."

Kurt looked up quickly to see a sincere look in Blaine's eyes, before blushing profusely and stuttering slightly. "Well, I– I think– well, it's really not the worst one." Suddenly, he got an idea. "If I had to _choose_ one… ooh, I've got a good one."

Kurt hurried back to his closet and pulled out a suit with a waistcoat, pocket watch, and flowery cravat. "It's my favourite."

"Oh my God, what the hell is that?"

"Theme wedding!" Kurt beamed.

"What was the theme, humiliation?" Blaine asked, astonished, and Kurt smoothed his fingers over the jacket and opened the flowery umbrella.

"No, people do not have Gone With the Wind weddings." Blaine insisted.

"I have been to three." Kurt returned proudly. He remembered them all clearly, the girls falling over in their big puffy dresses, the cameraman telling them to say 'diddle-ee-dee'.

Blaine snapped a quick picture of him and waved a hand. "Alright, what else have you got? Show me some more."

And so Kurt went back to his closet, pulled out the next rainbow coloured suit, and twirled around his apartment, giggling, as Blaine snapped pictures and clapped. Blaine seemed entranced by Kurt's meticulously kept outfits, from the Sherwani to the cowboy outfit, complete with a hat which Blaine stole and insisted on wearing, particularly interested when Kurt emerged from the bathroom in a dress.

Spluttering on the drink Kurt had given him, Blaine stared as Kurt gave a twirl in an electric purple, very short dress, complete with tights stretched over long legs that Blaine could not seem to tear his eyes from.

"What– I mean what –" Blaine whispered hoarsely. Kurt smirked a little.

"Women wore suits, men wore dresses." He replied, turning back to the bathroom and adding a wiggle to his hips as he walked just to torment Blaine.

He was seemingly equally amused to find flippers and some Speedos in Kurt's closet, insisting he try them on as well, and snapping more then a few photos when he emerged, Kurt tugging them down nervously but giggling when Blaine pretended to faint.

And subsequently they went through every single one of Kurt's outfits in the closet, leaving him an hour and a half later in a green and black kilt, a white shirt and a black jacket and bow tie, an outfit which Kurt himself was actually quite fond of.

Kurt emerged from his kitchen with a refill for Blaine and a drink for himself to find him sitting on his couch, going through the photos on his camera.

"Twenty seven suits." Blaine said, shaking his head. "You've gotta be kidding me." Kurt sat down opposite him and propped his feet on the table, observing him quietly. "I don't get it. Alright, you do the thing; you have the suit, just throw it out! That's a huge closet. You live in New York, you can not be eating up space like that."

"Strange as it sounds, I've had some really good times in these outfits. Weird as that may be." Kurt shrugged, smiling a little.

"I don't believe you." Blaine said, but Kurt saw the laughter in his eyes.

"I don't care if someone wants me to wear a funny outfit. It's their day, not mine." Kurt said.

"God bless you."

"And if supporting them when they get married means snowshoeing to a mountaintop in the Alps, or…" Kurt nearly laughed at the amazed expression on Blaine's face. "Helping to caulk a fountain for some swans–"

"You actually did that?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"Oh, I'm a really, very, good… caulker." Kurt said seriously, raising an eyebrow. Blaine brought his voice recorder back up to his mouth.

"Likes caulk." He said, licking his lips. Kurt giggled. "Okay, but seriously, how much time do you spend doing this for other people? What about– what about you?" And he looked so genuinely concerned that Kurt couldn't help but feel his heart melt a little. "You don't have any needs?"

"No, I don't. I'm Jesus." Blaine laughed. "Someday, who knows when, but someday… it'll be my day." Kurt shrugged a shoulder, looking away wistfully. "And then, all those people will be there for me." He smiled a little. "That is if I ever–"

He was cut off by the flash and the beep of Blaine's camera again. Kurt looked at him quickly to see Blaine taking the camera down from pointing at him and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

Kurt paused for a moment, examining Blaine, then sighed. "You don't get it. It's fine, why would you."

He looked at Blaine to see him biting his lip, a somehow slightly melancholy look in his eyes. But when he looked again, it was gone, replaced by that cheeky half-smile again. Kurt convinced himself he must have just imagined it.

* * *

><p>"Hey." Kurt said as Rachel opened the door, coming out in front of it. "I need your registry list."<p>

"I thought you were going to wait downstairs?" Rachel said quickly. Kurt frowned as the sound of muffled, seemingly male singing reached his ears. Was there a guy in here?

"Rachel, what is that?" Rachel just shook her head, shrugging. "Matthew's in Telluride. Who's in here?"

"No one." Rachel said. "Let's go talk in the hall."

"Rachel," Kurt warned, pushing past her and bursting into her and Matthew's apartment.

"Kurt–" He came in to see Pedro with a vacuum cleaner, dancing around the living room and singing to Shakira. "He wanted a part time job!" Rachel said.

"He's– cleaning the apartment!" Kurt said, his eyes wide.

"Don't tell Matt." Rachel pleaded. "It's Pedro and my little secret, okay?"

Kurt just glared at her.

* * *

><p>"Anderson!" Sue marched into Blaine's office, leaning on the desk. "That male bridesmaid story, what do you have so far?"<p>

"Uh…" Blaine hesitated. "It's a little rough, I'm still working on it–"

"I want to see it." Sue ordered.

"But I'm not even–"

"Right now. Email it."

"It's not– I'm not finished with it! I'm not done!" Blaine called after her as she walked away. She merely kept walking, shouting at an assistant or two on the way.

Blaine sighed.

* * *

><p>"Can you go away, please? I did not invite you."<p>

"Well luckily Rachel did. See when I cover a wedding I have to see every aspect." Blaine explained as he followed Kurt through the shop as he scanned various items. "Your friend wants so many different things from so many different shops that she physically cannot register for them herself?"

"She's pushed for time, it's a short engagement." Kurt explained as he scanned some dishes.

"Good God, another one?" Blaine asked sceptically.

Kurt sighed. "To you it's just another casserole dish. To Rachel, it's the pot she's going to cook my mother's Christmas roast in."

"Oh, Rachel cooks?"

Kurt paused. "Alright, well, I'm going to cook it, but Rachel will be there. With… Matthew." He scanned a few more things. "And this isn't just another vahze–"

"Vase." Blaine interrupted.

"This is the vahze Rachel will get out when Matthew brings her flowers…" He sighed wistfully. "Just because he felt like it."

"I see." Blaine nodded. "And this…" He stroked a metal rooster on a shelf. "This is the rooster shaped umbrella holder that will hold all of Matthew's umbrellas."

"Fine. Be a jerk." Kurt said airily. "All I'm saying is that this isn't just stuff. These are the things that make up a life together."

"No." Blaine said defiantly, examining a golden, sparkling pig. "This is the kind of useless crap that the $7 billion a year wedding industry had convinced us all that we need or we won't be happy." He scanned the pig and patted it.

"You know what I think?" Kurt said to Blaine, irritated. "I think that your statistics and theories are all just a smoke screen."

"Oh really?" Blaine asked, sounding interested and following Kurt into another section. "For what?"

"Your little secret." Kurt said positively. "Whatever it is. You parents got divorced, you haven't found the right guy, you're afraid you never will…"

"Mhm." Blaine raised his eyebrows. "And I think you love weddings so much because you'd rather focus on other people's Kodak moments than make memories of you own." He countered.

Kurt glared at him angrily. "Oh, you know what, you're right, because weddings are the perfect place to forget about being _single_."

"You want a wedding." Blaine accused coolly, sitting himself down on a couch. "Not a marriage, a wedding."

Kurt's mouth fell open. "What is your problem? Did you have your own fancy wedding and you husband left you or something?"

"Bingo." Blaine said, still smiling tightly.

Kurt dropped his scanner. "What?"

"With my roommate from college, by the way, so I think you get an extra bingo for that."

Kurt felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, and met Blaine's eyes. Despite the smile on his face, they were dejected. "Oh, shit. Blaine, I– I'm so sorry." _As if that would make it okay._ "It was just a guess."

"It was a good one." Blaine said, the fake smile finally slipping off his face to be replaced by a slightly reminiscent one. "For someone who has so little insight on himself, you nailed me right on the head."

Kurt looked at him, biting his lip, seeing his big brown eyes so sad and wistful. "You wanna find the ugliest stuff in the store and register Rachel for it?" He offered.

Blaine laughed, at least, which made Kurt feel a little less of a jerk. Only a little, though.

Blaine held up his scanner. "Let's do it."

* * *

><p>Blaine opened the door to Sue's office, smiling nervously.<p>

"Wow." She said.

He sighed. "Alright, see I told you, I was not done with it–"

"No, no." She interrupted. "It's good. I meant wow, it's actually decent. I have to admit, I was shocked, it's smart… and biting… and actually entertaining as hell." She looked reasonably impressed, something which Blaine had never seen before.

"Thank you."

"You really nailed this guy." His smile dropped slightly. "We're running it. Sunday. Front page of the section." Blaine's eyes widened. "Um, here is where you jump up and down with gratitude."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, I just don't think it's perfect yet." Blaine said quickly. "I really want to get this right, I think we should just hold it a week."

'Wait," Sue said. "You've been begging me for months, and now you want me to hold it so you can move some commas around?"

"I don't know, know that I'm in it… he's more than just this perpetual groomsman." Blaine insisted. "I don't know, there's just… there's a lot more to him than that."

"Huh." Sue said, raising her eyebrows. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you'd developed a little crush."

Blaine huffed. "Alright, fine. I know I can make it better."

"It's fine the way it is."

"Will you just give me a week?" Blaine pleaded. "Just a week."

Sue looked up, exasperated. "Fine." She sighed. "Get out."

* * *

><p>"Hey." Kurt greeted Matthew, who was sitting at a table at the boathouse in the sunshine, smiling that dreamy smile at Kurt.<p>

"Hi." Matthew said, smiling. "Thanks for coming at such short notice."

"Oh, it's no problem." Kurt said, blushing a little "I'm happy to help, and I definitely have more experience eating than Rachel does, so you're in good hands."

Matthew laughed, as the chef came out holding the food.

"We have planned your wedding dinner to your exact specifications." He said, putting down the plates.

"Thank you." Matthew said.

"So…" Kurt began. "How're you feeling? You nervous?"

"Yes." Matthew chuckled. "But at the same time, no. I just know Rachel's going to make it so easy and laid-back. That's what I like about her, there's no bullshit. She's not afraid to be herself, you know?"

Kurt smiled tightly. _God, if only you knew…_

Could Kurt tell him? No, he couldn't… he couldn't do that… could he?

"Matthew, about Rachel." He said, his heart thudding. Was he really going to do this? "There's something you should know."

Matthew frowned. "What?" And he looked so concerned, so worried… he just couldn't do that.

"I'm just so happy you found what you were looking for." Kurt blurted, laughing awkwardly. Matthew visibly relaxed, smiling too. _I'm a terrible person_.

"So what's you favourite part about a wedding?" Matthew asked as they continued to eat. "The food, the flowers?"

"Oh, that's easy." Kurt replied, smiling genuinely. "You know when the music starts and the bride makes her big entrance, and everybody turns to look at her?" Matthew nodded. "That's when I look at the groom. His face says it all." Kurt looked away, into the lake. "You know, the pure love there. That's why I go."

"Okay." Matthew smiled. "So when you get married and make your big entrance, as I'm sure you will–"

"Oh yes."

"I have full permission to look at your groom?"

"Yes. Please do." Kurt laughed. "Make sure the poor sucker is still standing there."

"Are you kidding me?" Matthew grinned. "Any guy would be lucky to have you. And the way you attacked that tomatillo before? Who could resist that – very sexy."

Kurt burst into laughter, which Matthew soon joined. _This is how it should be_. But then Matthew was looking away to his right. "Anderson?"

Kurt spun quickly in his seat to see Blaine walking towards them, grinning easily. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked through gritted teeth.

"You guys picking out the wedding meal?" Blaine asked, ignoring Kurt and rubbing his hands together. "Where's Rachel?"

"She's…" Kurt cleared his throat. "Getting her hair done." Blaine nodded slowly, frowning at him. "I'm just helping out. We're heading up to Rhinebeck to pick out some linens from the antique store."

"Yeah, we really should go, because Rach and I have dinner with my parents." Matthew said.

"Well, why don't I just go with you?" Blaine offered to Kurt.

"What? No!" Kurt tried to calm himself. "I mean, no, that's okay. I can get you back on time, I've got my dad's Volvo, that thing books."

"All right, look. I really don't mind. It's totally fine." Blaine said, his gaze fixed on Kurt. "I got a couple more questions to ask you anyway for the article. "

"Which I'd be happy to answer, by phone or e-mail." Kurt said quickly.

"Look, if you wouldn't mind, that would be a great help." Matthew said gratefully.

"I don't mind at all." Blaine said, smiling at Kurt. "I insist."


	9. Chapter 9

**IT'S THE CHAPTER OF SMUT, GUYS.**

**Okay, so thanks for all of your reviews and opinions. I have decided to go with smut, because of the overwhelming feedback that wanted me to. I apologise to those who didn't want that, but feel free to skip it if you want, I don't mind. I also hereby forbid anyone I know personally from reading it. Especially if you're not my friend, if you are I might allow it.**

**Also, Drake and Jayden from my other fic make a guest appearance. Look out for them.**

**I hope you like it, and please, please tell me what you think, especially if you read the sex, but bear in mind this is the first time I've ever written anything like this. So any feedback would help.**

**Also, I dedicate this to Georgie, Sophie and Vanessa, my kind and tolerating friends who have put up with me talking about this for ages. (they might actually read it now). **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"It was like a light bulb!" Blaine said loudly over the splattering of rain on the car and the deafening roar of the wind. "The second I saw you mooning at him over polenta. Of course you're upset, you're planning your best friend's wedding to the man that you're in love with!"<p>

Kurt glared straight ahead at the road, inwardly fuming as Blaine continued.

"Is he even gay?"

"Bi." Kurt said through gritted teeth. "Supposedly."

"You're stuck in this creepy little love triangle… and all the time, you're one monogrammed party favor away from blowing your brains out!" Blaine said incredulously.

"That is ridiculous." Kurt said loudly, his voice wavering a little.

"Oh, come on." Blaine scoffed. "'Course, you can't tell him, because you're _Nice_ Kurt, you're _Sweet_ Kurt–"

"You don't know what you're talking about, okay?" Kurt snapped, using all of the willpower he had not to turn and scowl directly at Blaine. "He's my boss. She's like my sister. I am thrilled to be planning their wedding– tickled, even. Like I have been for every wedding I've been part of but _you,_ you wouldn't understand that because you're– you're–" Blaine raised an eyebrow. "You're _mean._ And dark, and cynical, and well, that's you problem, pal, not mine."

"Pal?"

"Yeah."

"_Pal_?"

"Uh huh."

"'Hey, pal. Pal.'" Blaine mocked. "This is bad. You're calling me 'pal.'"

"Oh, will you just be quiet?" Kurt said angrily. This could not be going worse. _Just_ when he had been starting to think hey, he might not be such a bad person, _bam._

"Look, I get it. You're mad." Blaine said. "I just ruined the whole afternoon… of you pining over someone you'll never ever have."

"Stop it!" Kurt shouted. "Just stop!"

Blaine looked at Kurt, and stopped speaking for a total of ten seconds. He then calmed his voice.

"Okay. Would you just slow down a little bit so I can read this sign?"

Kurt accelerated past so that the sign was nothing but a white blur. Blaine looked back, but it was long gone, so he turned back in his seat to face Kurt.

"Okay, my Spidey vision's not working so do you think you could slow down just a little bit–"

"Would you leave me alone!" Kurt yelled, driving even faster and breathing heavily as Blaine threw him a worried glance.

"Seriously, crazy man, we're going to hydroplane. Slow down." He told him. But Kurt was in no mood to take orders from anyone, least of all _him, _so he just sped up again around the next corner, the rain clogging his vision outside but his angry tears making it impossible for him to even notice.

"Come on. We are not going to hydroplane." Kurt said irritably. But just then, the car skidding through another turn, the tires squealing and the car spinning.

"Whoa!" Kurt shrieked. "We're hydroplaning, we're hydroplaning!"

Blaine's eyes widened as he grabbed onto the edge of the car, as Kurt tried desperately to veer the car back on track to no avail. The car skidded entirely off the track and down a grassy hill while both Kurt and Blaine screamed and clung onto the car and each other.

"We're gonna die! We're gonna die!" Kurt shrieked as Blaine babbled nonsensical things while still clutching his arm. Finally, the car slid to a stop at the bottom of the hill, and everything fell silent except for the rain hitting the car and the swish of the windscreen wipers.

Kurt gasped as he gripped onto the wheel, and Blaine let go of his arm. He looked over at Kurt to say something, but before he could, Kurt sent him a glare that would have the fiercest of people cowering.

"Don't. Say. Anything."

Blaine slumped back into his seat as Kurt tried desperately to start the engine, only to have the tires spin in the mud. The car would not move.

"If we'd actually broken down properly, I could have fixed it." Kurt grumbled. "But no."

Thunder cracked as the rain continued to pour outside, mocking them with the comfort of the place that they would inevitably have to leave soon. Kurt and Blaine simultaneously unrolled their windows and reached out into the rain with their phones in hand, looking at the screens for a signal. "You got anything?" Blaine asked.

"No," he told him. They pulled back their arms and Blaine flipped closed his phone. They rolled the windows back up.

"Uh," Blaine began, but Kurt pointed a warning finger at him.

"I said don't! Nothing!"

* * *

><p>A few silent moments later, a dripping Kurt and Blaine stumbled into a nearby bar, panting and wiping rain off their faces. Kurt could feel his shirt sticking to him, having worn the tightest one he had in order to impress Matthew, and he could see right through Blaine's, which, as annoying as he was, was very distracting.<p>

Kurt trudged up to the pay phone in the bar, attempting to dial while holding the phone up to his ear, but no dial tone came. He sighed, and shook his head at Blaine, who approached the barman.

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked. "Your payphone's dead."

"Nice work." The barman complimented sarcastically. "You're like one of those guys on CSI."

Blaine grinned, laughing a little and shaking his head like a wet dog.

"Uh, any chance we could use your phone?" Kurt asked.

"Could get a scotch, three fingers, no ice, please?" Blaine asked the barman, peeling his wet jacket off and slinging at across the back of the chair.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked as the barman went off to make him his drink.

"Well, it's late," Blaine said, hopping onto a stool. "We're not getting a tow, and we're in East Deliverance New York.' He smiled at Kurt. "I'm gonna have a drink."

Kurt sighed wearily and looked nervously back at the door, scowling at the rain pounding into it.

"Come on, there's no way you can help now." Blaine told him. "Just sit down, relax, and have a drink. It's been a long day."

"Here you go." The barmen set the drink in front of Blaine, who took it gratefully and sipped it.

"Fine." Kurt said as he sat down grudgingly, signalling to the barman. "Just one!"

* * *

><p>Kurt gasped in satisfaction as he slammed down the empty glass of his fourth drink. His hair had now dried, and his shirt had stopped clinging to him quite so much, as had Blaine's. However, Blaine's hair was damp enough that those delicious curls had come back and were teasing Kurt, bouncing around in a way that made him want to pull on them.<p>

"Okay." Kurt said. "February 12th, 2018."

Blaine's eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head regretfully. Kurt gasped.

"The Keller wedding!" Kurt reminded him, shocked. "You wrote a column that moved me to tears, it was downright, flat-out the most beautiful thing I've ever read." He said truthfully.

"Aww." Blaine seemed genuinely complimented. "No, I don't remember it."

"How can you not remember that?" Kurt demanded.

"I don't remember it!"

"How can you not?" Kurt repeated earnestly. "Two guys called Drake and Jayden, they'd faced homophobia all their lives and it was the day Drake's father finally came to terms with it and showed up the at wedding with flowers, you cannot _fake_ emotion like that."

"Oh, yes you can– a good writer can." Blaine insisted.

"Oh, you're not that good." Kurt grumbled.

Blaine stared at him in disbelief.

* * *

><p>Another two drinks later, and Kurt's mind was going a little fuzzy, and had Blaine always been that attractive?<p>

"Nice." He said, nodding approvingly at his drink. Kurt laughed.

"There's gotta be one thing about weddings that you like." Kurt told him.

Blaine chewed on a straw. "Open bar."

"_No_."

"Alright." Blaine said finally. "So when the bride comes in, and she makes her giant grand entrance." Kurt nodded. "I like to glance back at the poor bastard getting married." Kurt narrowed his eyes slightly. "'Cause even though I think he's an idiot, for willingly entering into the last legal form of slavery…" Blaine paused, smiling a little. "I don't know, he always looks really, really happy." Kurt's mouth dropped open and he stared at Blaine. "And for some reason that–" But then Blaine caught sight of Kurt, and stopped. "What the hell are you looking at me like that for?" He laughed.

"Are you shitting me right now?" Kurt asked in disbelief.

"What?"

"That's _my_ favourite part." Blaine's own mouth fell open a little, but the he grinned. Kurt shook his head. "Oh my God, we have something in common."

Blaine laughed again. "Yes, well, statistically that was bound to happen."

"Yeah, well. I think you should just admit that you're a big softie. That this whole cynical thing…" Kurt gestured to Blaine's face. "…Is just an act so you can seem brooding, and mysterious, and… sexy."

"Whoa, what was that last one?" Blaine asked interestedly.

"What?"

"Did you say sexy?"

"What?" Kurt repeated.

"D'you think I'm sexy?" Blaine's voice dropped lower as he raised an eyebrow.

Kurt hesitated. "…no."

"It's okay if you do."

"I don't!" Kurt said certainly.

"You think I'm a little sexy?" Blaine persisted.

"No." Kurt said, blushing. "I think _you_ think you're sexy. That's the point I'm making."

"I'm a little sexy, yeah."

They both laughed, Kurt's cheeks slightly flushed as he ducked his head.

They each sipped their drinks as the intro to a new song came through the speakers.

"Great song." Blaine said, closing his eyes and nodding his head.

"I love this song." Kurt admitted, smiling and shaking his shoulders.

"You think I'm pretty, without any make-up on," Blaine sang loudly, and despite being fairly drunk, Kurt marvelled at his smooth voice. "You think I'm funny, when I tell the punch line wrong… da da da da, da da da da da da da. DOW-OW-OWN!"

Kurt giggled. "…those aren't the words, silly."

"Those are exactly the words!" Blaine said in mock outrage. "I'm sorry, lyrics police, what are the words?

Kurt took a breath, and sang equally loudly. "You brought me to life, now every February, you'll be my Valentine," He looked at Blaine who grinned and shouted with him. "VALENTINE!"

"Let's go all – the way – tonight, –" They sang together, drowning out Katy Perry with their voices. "No regrets, just love– we can dance – until – we die – you and I–"

"Will be young FOREVER!" Blaine practically shouted as Kurt laughed loudly at him, hardly noticing the masses of people turning around to stare at the two, some nodding with approval and nodding their own heads to the beat.

And before the knew it, Kurt and Blaine were on the table, dancing together to the pounding beat and singing – or maybe it was shouting – to the crowd of people below.

"YOU – MAKE – ME– FEEL LIKE I'M LIVING A – TEENAGE DREAM! THE WAY YOU TURN ME ON–"

Somehow, Kurt's shoes and jacket had come off, and he was jumping up and down on the bar as the group below sang along. Blaine was doing some kind of weird – but quite adorable – side hopping and pointing with more enthusiasm than many a child would normally have. Kurt laughed as he grabbed him and pulled him close, keeping an arm around his waist as they sang together. Kurt couldn't remember the last time he had let himself sing with such free abandon.

"DON'T EVER LOOK BACK!" They shouted, and the crowd yelled it right back at them.

They danced together, to whoops and cheers of the crowd, and when the song was in its final chorus Blaine jumped down from the table and let Kurt dance around on his own, clapping and cheering along with everyone else.

"IMMA GET YOUR HEART RACING IN MY SKIN TIGHT JEANS–" Blaine gave a pointed look to Kurt's jeans. "BE YOUR TEENAGE DREAM TONIGHT!"

The song ended, to wild applause from the rest of the bar, and Blaine held out a hand to Kurt to help him down, holding around his waist so that he wouldn't stumble.

They finally came to be still, with Blaine's arms around Kurt's waist and Kurt's around Blaine's neck, directly at eye level and both breathing heavily. Kurt examined Blaine's big, hazel eyes, the sweat making his curls stick to his forehead and _wow,_ since when had Kurt found sweat attractive? And finally those long eyelashes, and the five o'clock shadow under his jaw.

"I cried like a baby at the Keller wedding." Blaine breathed, still staring into Kurt's eyes.

There was a beat of silence, and then –

_Then_ Kurt was kissing him, arms slung around his neck and hands digging into his curls like he'd wanted to all night, both of their lips working furiously, and Blaine was licking at Kurt's bottom lip, who opened his mouth in response, realising that this was the neediest and most wanton kiss he had ever experienced. Then, when he felt Blaine pressed up against him, realised that they really needed to get out of here.

* * *

><p>Once they had stumbled to the car, slammed the doors and flown back together, their mouths crashing against one another, the rain had become more of a familiar and erotic pounding than an annoyance now. They kissed quickly, hungrily, teeth clashing and tongues colliding as Blaine bit down on Kurt's bottom lip, eliciting a low moan that had him pushing the other man down onto the driver's seat. Kurt shrieked a little as they fell onto the steering wheel, the horn honking loudly, but then dissolved into giggles which melted into whimpers when Blaine kissed down his jaw and sucked on his neck, in some amazingly wonderful place that not one of Kurt's previous boyfriends had managed to find.<p>

Before he lost all coherent thought, he pulled Blaine into the thankfully reasonably spacious backseat and pushed him against the back of it, unbuttoning his shirt as quickly as he could manage, fumbling only a little with those troublesome buttons. While still kissing him desperately, he tore the shirt off and tossed it to the side, taking a moment to pull back and simply _stare._

Kurt had only ever been attracted to the smooth look before, but he could safely say the tanned skin dusted with dark hair was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. He couldn't help but reach out and run his fingers down Blaine's chest, pleased at the gasp he got in reward, and leaned back in just to have Blaine tug his shirt over his head and practically pouncing on him, grappling at each other desperately, frantically, pushing into every surface they could find as they explored each other's mouths like they'd forgotten the meaning of air.

Suddenly Blaine was pushing him back against the seat, kissing down his chest, licking, nipping and sucking, and taking Kurt out of his haze of arousal to feel the pricks of want and need as Blaine dragged his tongue over a nipple.

"God – Blaine–"

"Blaine will do just fine." He panted, sucking at a spot just at the side of Kurt's ribs.

"Shut up." Kurt breathed, flipping them over and kissing him hard on the mouth again, hands sliding over skin possessively. The strong smell of rain and sweat and sex and _man_ filled the car, and Kurt mouthed at the crook between Blaine's shoulder and neck, tasting salty sweat and that should be really gross, but somehow it just made him ache even more.

Kurt managed to climb into Blaine's lap, grinding them together, both gasping at the friction and panting heavily, seemingly unable to keep this up while still maintaining basic functions like breathing. Blaine arched up, desperately and shamelessly rubbing himself against Kurt, and sliding his hands down his sides and into his pants, cupping the firm muscle and pulling him closer.

The buzz of the alcohol was lessening now, and Kurt was becoming even more hyper-aware of the new sensations. It had been _so _long, and Blaine was _so, so_ hot.

"Can I–" Kurt gasped between kisses, the feel of soft skin between his fingers as he raked down Blaine's chest. "I want– can I taste you?"

Blaine's eyes widened and he nodded vigorously, helping Kurt in peeling his jeans off, giving a few helpful kicks to throw them to the side of the car along with their shirts. Kurt slid down, running his fingers over the top of the black briefs, and looking up again for confirmation. The sight he was met with was incredible– Blaine had thrown himself back into the seat, head tilted back, neck exposed with dark marks where Kurt had bitten and sucked. He looked down, and their eyes met– Kurt's wide and blue, Blaine's dark with arousal. He gave a nod, and Kurt took a deep breath before gliding his mouth onto him teasingly.

Blaine cried out, squirming beneath him, his hands flying to Kurt's hair, fisting at it desperately as Kurt pulled back and plunged back down, his hands squeezing Blaine's thighs. He glanced up at Blaine, whose eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was dropped open, panting and moaning when Kurt licked along the length of him, before pulling back and taking him fully, pulling back roughly again and again.

Blaine's back arched as he thrust his hips forward, and looked down, trembling at the sight of Kurt's mouth around him. He tapped the side of his head, trying to pant out a warning.

"Kurt– come back up here, oh my god."

Kurt pulled off obediently and crawled up to meet Blaine in another hard kiss. "You should know," he breathed. "That I never do this."

"I can believe that." Blaine groaned into the kiss, going for mocking but coming out as needy.

"No, seriously, I _never_ do this." Kurt insisted, climbing back on top of Blaine. "I _never_–"

Blaine silenced him with another searing kiss, sliding a hand down to cup him through his jeans, effectively shutting him up. Kurt moaned loudly, panting into Blaine's ear.

"What do you want?" Blaine asked, his voice rough and low.

"You." Kurt gasped and that certainly sent a shudder through Blaine, so hard that Kurt could feel it.

"You want me to–" Blaine started.

"Yes."

"Are you s–"

"Yes."

"Do you have any–"

"_Yes._" Kurt reached behind him, groping wildly until he found what he was looking for in the pocket in the back of the seat, and thrusting them into Blaine's hand. "Now _please_, just–"

Kurt held his breath for a moment as Blaine unbuttoned his jeans for him, pulling them off and kicking them away like the useless things they were – and it wasn't often Kurt let his clothes be treated like that – and pulled his briefs down too, and taking a moment to stare at him.

Kurt felt a little vulnerable under Blaine's heavy gaze, squirming a little until he took ahold of him, pumping a few times as Kurt melted into the seat, despite it being dry and a little rough. "_Blaine_–"

The man in question popped open the cap of the lube, pouring a generous amount on his fingers and throwing the bottle behind him somewhere. He pushed Kurt down so he was lying on the seat; his legs spread, and Blaine rubbed his finger along his entrance, before slowly pushing it inside and past the ring of muscle there.

Kurt inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut at the slight burn but then sighing at the feeling of fullness, rocking back onto it to get it deeper. Blaine observed him carefully, his pale, delicate features twisted in pleasure, pink lips parted and eyelashes fanned out against flushed cheeks, his hair sticking to his forehead.

Blaine added another finger, then another, and soon Kurt was rocking back on three fingers, gasping and moaning and making all sorts of sounds that made Blaine even more desperate for something, anything.

"Blaine, please. Just." Kurt exhaled, still moving his hips desperately. "Now, please. Now."

"Patience." Blaine smirked.

"Fuck patience." Kurt gasped. "Fuck _me._"

True to his word, Blaine pulled his fingers out, Kurt crying out at the feeling of emptiness, and searched again for the lube and the condom. Locating both, he tore it open quickly and rolled it on, coating himself in the lube and positioning himself in front of Kurt, drawing his knees up and breathing heavily.

Kurt just gave a short nod, and held his breath at the rush of blood and pounding ache as Blaine pressed inside, dropping his head down with a low growl. Kurt trembled, trying to hold on, and rolled his hips up to meet Blaine's.

Soon the car was filled with nothing but breathy moans, gasps, and cries of each other's names, and the slapping of skin against skin. It was sharp, desperate, and both men fought to hold on as long as they could, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex and the rainwater, listening to the other's sounds mixed with the pounding of the rain and the crack of thunder. They kissed whenever they could reach, tasting that warm and boozy taste that had become so familiar.

But finally, _finally_, when neither could hold on any longer, Blaine jolted and Kurt writhed beneath him, gripping each other's hands and crying out a strangled mixture of names and gasps and random profanities, releasing all that tension that had felt like it had been building up since they first met.

"Oh my god." Kurt panted as he came down, slumping against the backseat as Blaine pulled out with a wince.

"Totally." Blaine agreed, tying off the condom and throwing it in a plastic bag nearby. He reached for his jacket and their underwear and shirts, and helped Kurt pull his on before his own. He then pulled him closer, leaving his arm around him and covered them both with his jacket like a blanket. Kurt's eyes were already drooping, so Blaine simply placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, before dropping his head to the other man's shoulder and letting sleep drift over him too.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey! Soooo… for those of you who read the smut. Thank you. I'm so glad you liked it. I didn't get any negative reviews about that so… huzzah! Things are looking up for Kurt, but, unfortunately, not for long…**

**Don't own.**

* * *

><p>"Morning, sunshine."<p>

Kurt's eyes blinked open blearily to the sight of a scruffy, but still so deliciously handsome Blaine bending over him, holding a cup of strong-smelling coffee. Kurt set up slowly, blushing when he realised he was wearing nothing but his underwear, although he was concealed by Blaine's coat. Honestly he shouldn't be worried about this – Blaine _had_, after all, seen him naked now.

"Hi." Kurt said, his voice cracking as he took the proffered coffee. "Thank you."

"Tow truck's on its way." Blaine told him, perching himself on the open car door.

"Okay." Kurt said, as Blaine have him a brilliant grin, full of his usual cockiness but with something more tender beneath it. The memories of the previous night were hazy, but the feel of Blaine… that was crystal clear. The sounds, the smells, the way he tasted. And… Kurt had just had sex on a first date. And it wasn't even a date, oh god. "I just wanted you to know…" Kurt said quickly. "Well, you know, I never do this." He laughed a little.

"Oh, I know," Blaine said, giving him an amused, knowing smile.

"No, really." Kurt hastened to assure him. "Never. I never do this."

"Really, I know. Last night you kept saying it. 'I never do this. I never do this. I never do this. I never–'"

"Okay." Kurt said, quickly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He never was a great drunk. "I just wanted you to know."

Blaine smiled. "D'you wanna get breakfast?"

* * *

><p>"Here's your order." The waitress set the plates down, smiling coyly at Blaine. "Anything else?"<p>

"No, thank you." Kurt said firmly, glaring only slightly.

"Hey!" A young guy in a rock band t-shirt approached the two, grinning. "It's the Teenage Dreams!"

Kurt gaped, memories flooding over him. Oh no… oh no.

The man visibly vibrated with energy. "Remember– IMMA GET YOUR HEART RACING! IN MY SKIN TIGHT JEANS!"

Blaine grinned happily, nodding, while Kurt buried his face in his eyes.

"You guys–oh. That was awesome."

"Oh, thanks." Kurt mumbled, face flushed, as the man bounced up and down.

"Alright, I'll see you guys later." And with that, and a knock on their table, he left.

"Oh my God." Kurt whispered loudly to Blaine. "I sang Teenage Dream last night, didn't I?"

"Mhm." Blaine said through a sip of his coffee. "Very loudly. And might I say you were a little pitchy?"

"I'm sorry, me? What about you, you hit notes only dogs can hear." Kurt retorted, smiling teasingly.

"What?" Blaine protested. "No."

"Truly, truly high-pitched. And that's coming from _me._"

"I was in key, at least, though, right?" Blaine said as the waitress filled his drink.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, pointing at Kurt. "You're that guy!"

"Yeah, I'm Katy Perry, hi." Kurt answers, smiling a little, because maybe this wasn't so bad.

"Hey!" The waitress calls to her friend across the room, picking up a newspaper. "It's the guy from the paper."

Kurt frowned. "What paper?"

The waitress sets the New York Journal down in front of him, and Blaine's eyes widened.

"Shit." Blaine said, as Kurt looked down at the page in front of him, his own face smiling back up.

"Always, always, always a groomsman, by Kevin Anderson?" Kurt read, his voice wavering in disbelief as he recognised the picture of himself that Blaine had taken when they were sitting in his living room. "What is this?"

"Kurt–" Blaine tried to reach over and take the paper away from him, but Kurt just tugged it out of his reach, his eyes scanning over picture after picture of his wedding outfits, complete with captions and so much text it was making his head swim.

"Oh my God." Kurt breathed, as he skimmed the article, and Blaine put his head in his hands.

"Let me– let me explain." Blaine pleaded. "Kurt–"

"Oh my God." Kurt simply repeated, before grabbing his bag, throwing the newspaper at Blaine, and rushing out of the café.

"Kurt–!" Blaine called after him, but Kurt didn't stop, he just stormed out, slamming the door behind him as angry tears gathered in his eyes.

He thought– he actually thought they might have something for a moment there. He thought he was finally getting over Matthew, and maybe someone did care about him, someone as funny, friendly and gorgeous as Blaine, no less. But no, he was just using him, sleeping with him for his stupid paper.

"Look, I told my editor not to run it." Blaine pleaded as he ran after Kurt, who was still marching away from him purposefully. "Nobody reads that section anyway! Come on, will you please just–"

And with that Kurt turned on his heel, to oppose Blaine, and slapped him hard in the face with a resounding _smack_.

"And here I thought someone actually _cared_ about me." Kurt said, his voice shaking. "But I was just some stupid joke to you and your damn paper, wasn't I?"

"Kurt, no–"

"Some pathetic boy who you could make a spectacle out of, you– you slept with me for the fucking _money._" And then hot tears were spilling down his cheeks, and Blaine's eyes widened, his head shaking wildly, and a hand reached out to try to wipe them away, but Kurt just flinched back, and with one final, hard look, marched away in the direction of his car, leaving Blaine standing outside, watching the best thing in his life walk away.

* * *

><p>"What the hell happened?" Blaine asked Sue as soon as he got into work. "You said you were going to hold it!"<p>

"Well you don't make those decisions." Sue said, frowning. "I do."

"I didn't even get a chance to tell him it was running, he was ambushed!" Blaine had to fight to keep from yelling.

"Hey, I gave you twenty four inches in the Sunday paper!" Sue said. "The only thing you should be saying to me right now is 'I love you'."

Blaine exhaled slowly as Sue walked away, rubbing his eyes and trying to shake the image of Kurt's tear-stained face from his mind.

* * *

><p>Kurt opened the door of his apartment to an angry cry from the living room. He dropped his bag, and walked tiredly to the couch, slumping down on it as Rachel followed him, waving the paper around in distress.<p>

"How could you let this happen to me?" She cried.

"What?" Kurt asked faintly.

"If Kurt is the prototypical, accommodating groomsman..." Rachel read, shaking the paper in her anger. "Then his friend, Rachel, is cast as the overbearing, overindulged bride-to-be... who at any moment, one worries, might start stomping around Manhattan, breathing fire and swatting planes from the sky!" She yelled, widening her eyes at Kurt.

"I had no idea he was writing an article about me." Kurt replied tiredly and tonelessly.

"You?" Rachel shrieked. "He called me 'Bridezilla' in the New York freaking journal! I could tear him apart, I swear. I could tear him apart limb from limb!"

Kurt, in all honesty, had seen her furious rants before, and was not phased in the slightest. All his energies had been spent, and right now he just wanted to curl up in his bed and forget all about Blaine and his stupid article and his stupid body and his stupid smile.

The phone rang loudly, and Rachel picked it up with a roar. "WHAT?"

There was a short pause, and then– "OH, the only person _you'll_ be speaking to is my attorney!"

Oh. Blaine was calling. Huh. Probably for some more wedding information.

"And I don't even have an attorney, but I'm sure gonna get one! Asshole!"

She slammed the phone down onto the couch next to Kurt, who didn't even have enough energy to raise an eyebrow. Rachel then crumpled up the newspaper and threw it on the floor. "Ugh, I've got to get out of here. Oh, but you'd better alert traffic control because Bridezilla is on the loose!"

She stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang.

Kurt merely blinked, and quietly decided that her storm outs were, indeed, less effective every time they happened.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey there guys. I love all of your empathy for poor Kurt… I'm afraid things might not get that much better, but he's getting his revenge on soon. Thank you for all your reviews!**

**Oh, and on another note, if you guys have tumblr, SO DO I! I finally figured it out, I'm didsomebodysaysophie, link on my profile page (because somebody had already taken surprisinglysuavekoala, damn them) so follow me for Klainey stuff, some of my drawings, and I'll gladly do drabble requests or whatever. Uh… yeah. Thanks :)**

**Also, thanks to the amazingly wonderful Sophie for being suuuuuper supportive and actually reading my awkward writings. I bow down to you and your skills of endurance.**

**I don't own Glee or 27 Dresses, they belong to their respective mothers, Ryan Murphy and Anne Fletcher. **

* * *

><p>"Blaine…" Kurt murmured as he scrolled through his missed calls. "Blaine, Blaine… stop calling me!"<p>

He slammed his phone down and rested against his desk, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He did _not_ need this right now. He had a million things to do for Rachel's wedding, he had work for the next issue, he was worried out of his mind that Matthew might fire him because of the article fiasco… the last thing he needed was Blaine on his tail.

He opened his eyes to see Santana strolling slowly into his work cubicle, an eyebrow raised as she smoothed down her skirt.

"Before you say anything, could you just… not say anything?" Kurt said helplessly.

Santana merely shrugged. "I don't understand. To what are you referring?"

Kurt merely attempted to raise an eyebrow as he chewed on his lip.

"Oh, come on." Santana said, rolling her eyes. "It's no big deal, it's just an article. On the… front page of the section… with a million pictures of you on it." She shrugged, smiling slightly. "Who's upset?"

Kurt tried to smile.

"Kurt!" Matthew's voice called from his office. Kurt threw Santana a panicked glance, before obediently entering the room, stepping nervously to come face to face with his boss.

"Let me just explain," Kurt said quickly. "I had no idea what he was writing–"

"Kurt." Matthew stopped him. "The guy was a jerk. He took advantage of you, don't worry about it."

Kurt felt the relief wash over him. "I know, I just feel like I should have seen it coming, I'm so sorry."

"Would you please stop apologising?" Matthew said. "Look, the only reason I called you in here is to make sure that you're okay."

Kurt mouthed wordlessly. "Oh." He finally said. "Well… I've been better." Matthew laughed quietly. Kurt smiled. "I'm just trying to get through it."

"Well, look, I wouldn't worry about it." Matthew said, putting a hand on the small of Kurt's back and guiding him out of the office. "I mean, does anybody read that section anyway?"

"No." Kurt smiled tightly, just wishing that this was what he was upset about.

* * *

><p>Kurt rang the doorbell of the dress shop, where Rachel was hopefully having his mother's dress hemmed – Kurt was still refusing to call it <em>her<em> dress, at least in his own head – and he hoped she wouldn't mess with it too much. Although he'd rather it was never worn again, he didn't want any drastic changes to his what his mother got married in.

"Kurt, is that you?" Rachel's voice tinkled through the door.

"Yep." He called back as he pushed it open, wandering through to find Rachel in an under dress, speaking to one of the hemming women that Kurt knew all too well by now.

"Hi!" Rachel greeted him, seemingly in a much better mood than she had been the day before.

"Hey." Kurt nodded.

"So… listen." Rachel began, tilting her head and blinking innocently. "I've been doing a lot of thinking about the article fiasco, and I've decided to forgive you."

"Mm." Kurt replied, trying to smile with difficulty.

"You're just very trusting, and it's not your fault, I guess." She grinned happily.

"Okay, that's very big of you, Rachel." Kurt said through gritted teeth, his insincerity unbeknownst to his friend, who was placing a small tick in her notebook. "Wait, are you checking me off your list?"

"Um, about the slideshow," Rachel said quickly. "I know exactly what I want you to say so I wrote out a script, and your dad said you have all the family photos?" Kurt nodded hastily. "So I'll send you Matthew's as well. Here," She thrust a piece of paper from her notebook at Kurt, in her curly handwriting. "Please say this and only this, we don't want to be embarrassed…" she gave a fake smile. "Again."

"Okay, got it." Kurt said, falsely cheery and biting his tongue to stop a scathing remark.

The women brought the pile of dress in as Kurt examined the script, scanning through soppy romanticisms and comparisons to Broadway musicals, when he heard Rachel gasp. "Here it is!" She squealed, and stepped into it, the women pulling it up and over her shoulders.

Kurt looked up to see Rachel standing in a slim, white dress, complete with a sparkling silver waistband and thin straps. He frowned. "I thought you were wearing Mom's dress?"

Rachel grinned. "It is her dress!" She turned to face herself in the mirror. "Well, parts of it."

Kurt froze, feeling himself getting numb, his stomach dropping to his feet. What… what…

"It was just so old fashioned, you know, so we could just use a few pieces here and there…"

"Parts?" Kurt repeated dazedly. This couldn't… this couldn't be happening…

"Yeah." Rachel said, fingering her dress, and Kurt could call it her dress now because that was _not_ his mother's dress. "Like this," She pointed to the sparkly silver. "And the lace." She gestured to the barely visible lace on the straps.

Kurt got up, his legs seemingly working of their own accord, reaching out to feel the material as if to check that this wasn't just some horrific nightmare. "You cut up Mom's wedding dress?"

"Well technically Mariella did." Rachel laughed, pointing to that hemming lady that Kurt never really liked anyway. "But don't worry, we saved the rest." She said quickly, obviously misreading Kurt's shocked expression, and pointing at scraps of lace and silk and squares of material that in no way resembled his mother's wedding dress. "I think the bottom just needs to be hemmed a little bit…" she said absently as Kurt picked up the scraps, and then dropped them as though he had been burnt.

"No."

Rachel looked up, her eyes wide. "What."

"No," Kurt repeated. "No, no, no, no. _No._"

He walked out of the changing room quickly, picking up his bag and stuffing Rachel's stupid script inside. "Well, you don't have to keep them…" She said.

"God, you don't care!" Kurt burst out angrily, slamming his bag down. "You don't care about _anyone_ but yourself, do you? I have made excuses for you because you couldn't handle it when the closest thing you had to a mom died when you were little but _enough is enough._"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Rachel told him, offended.

"I can't undo what you've just done. But I won't let you hurt Matthew, he thinks he knows the truth about you but all he knows are the lies you've told him." Kurt huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "You even had Pedro keep a secret from Matthew. You tell him the truth, right now!" He pointed a warning finger at her. "He is not one of your euro trash boyfriends, Rachel, he is a good person, and you can't start a relationship based on lies!"

He took a deep breath, revelling in the feeling of getting everything off his chest, and turned to leave when he heard Rachel's scathing voice. "Oh, really Kurt? And you know this because of all _your_ successful relationships?"

Kurt flinched as though he'd been smacked. "You tell him the truth, or I will."

"No you won't." Rachel said, her voice filled with self-satisfaction. "You wouldn't hurt a fly, and you definitely wouldn't hurt me, I'm like your sister."

"That was yesterday." Kurt told her, a hard look in his eyes. "Today you're just some bitch who broke my heart and cut up my mother's wedding dress."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey, guys. Right, a lot of you were angry at Rachel last chapter – it's payback time, so… I hope you enjoy. Just wanted to say that I actually really like Rachel in the show. Well, most of the time. Hummelberry is my favourite friendship on there when she's not being mean to him. So… onwards with the stuff.**

**I don't own.**

* * *

><p>Kurt had stormed out of the dress shop, fuming all the way back to his apartment and hoping that Rachel at least had the courtesy to stay away from him.<p>

He had had enough. This was the last straw; he was _done_ with Rachel and her lies. Everything had always been about her. Kurt's life had been filled with people persuading him to let Rachel get her way, because she was younger than Kurt, she was like his little sister, and because her _mother_ gave her up and the next best thing she had died when she was eight. But nobody thought about him, how it was his mother he lost. Just because he was quiet and unresponsive to those who asked him about it, didn't mean he wasn't hurting.

And now, Rachel had taken possibly the best thing in his life, someone who made him happy and could have been his first relationship in _years_, and just lured him in with her lies and pretence and was about to lead him into a marriage of deceit.

Well, Kurt Hummel was about to uncover all her shit.

And so when Kurt got into his apartment, slammed the door and fished the crumpled script for the slideshow out of his bag, his eyes lit up with an idea that was sure to make Matthew realise _exactly _who he was marrying. Let it never be said that Kurt couldn't come up with a killer evil plan.

* * *

><p>That night, for the first time in a long, long time, Kurt dressed for himself. Not for Matthew, not for the appearances of <em>Vogue<em>, but just for him. He wore his favourite silver-studded skin-tight jeans, a red ruffled shirt, a waistcoat complete with various chains and buttons, and a black bow tie. When he walked into the restaurant with a stage and projector ready for his performance, he had never felt better, and more in control of his life.

He immediately caught sight of Matthew squeezing Pedro's shoulder, and whispering to a giggling Rachel, who was wearing stilettos that she could barely stand in, a short, low black dress and lipstick that Kurt knew the Rachel he had known would declare 'abominably slutty' were it on anyone else.

He was debating whether or not to go up and say hello before his big speech, when some distant great-aunt or something of the sort of Rachel's approached him, smiling patronisingly.

"Oh, Kurt!' She exclaimed. "You look wonderful! Good for you." Kurt gave her a puzzled smile. "Oh honey, it must be so hard to watch young Rachel get married before you."

_Ah, there it is._

"Yes," Kurt nodded along with the old woman. "Yes, it is. But then I remember that I still get to have hot hate sex with random strangers and I feel _so_ much better. Enjoy the party."

And with that Kurt walked away, leaving the old lady mouthing wordlessly in his wake.

"Ooh, you clean up good." Santana said when she found him, eyeing his outfit appreciatively. "I might even be into you." But then her eyes flicked across the room. "But on second thoughts, there's a really hot blonde over there, see? Don't want her to think I'm totally hetero."

Kurt followed her gaze, his eyebrows shooting up when he caught sight of the girl Santana was checking out. "Uh, San?"

"Mhmm."

"That's Britt."

Kurt watched in amusement as Santana spat out her drink. "_What_?" She hissed.

"Yeah, Rachel tracked her down. She just moved here, actually. Some dance studio wanted to hire her. Are you alright?"

Santana ran her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, fine, totally. Whatever. Maybe I'll… go catch up. Later. Maybe."

Kurt smiled at her sympathetically. Brittany and Santana had never quite made the transition into a relationship in high school, and when Brittany got back together with Artie at the end of senior year, although Santana never said a word, Kurt could see her broken heart. When she followed him to New York, they lost contact, and Santana remained exclusively in the one-night stand zone with everyone, male and female.

"Shut up." Santana said to Kurt's smile. She shook her head. "Are you okay? You look kind of antsy."

"Yep." Kurt said, grabbing her drink and downing it, feeling the burn of the alcohol down his throat.

"That's… not water…" Santana said. "Okay…"

He thrust the glass back at her, and strode over to where Matthew and Rachel were standing.

"Hi."

Matthew smiled. "Kurt, thank you so much for doing all of this. It's great."

"Sure, yeah." Kurt said, just as a waiter with a tray of food approached them. Perfect. "Oh, look, pigs in a blanket! Want one, Rach?"

Rachel faltered, initially flinching away from the sausage Kurt held up to her, but then plastered a smile on her face. "Um, yeah. Sure, I love me some… pigs."

She took it reluctantly and held it up to her mouth, hesitating. Kurt widened his eyes at her. _This is your last chance, Rachel, come on…_

But then Rachel took a bite of the sausage, smiling at Matthew and making an appreciative noise, though Kurt could see the disgust as soon as he turned away.

Kurt gave her one last, hard look, before sighing. "Right, well, I'm going to do the slideshow."

He turned to leave when Rachel grabbed his arm. "Kurt!"

"Mm."

"You're only going to say what I wrote, right?" She said, eyes wide.

"Of course." Kurt smiled. "The perfect best man always does what he's asked."

* * *

><p>Kurt tapped a spoon against his glass of champagne as he stood on the stage, looking over the room of guests, Matthew and Rachel directly in front of him. The chatter died out as everyone turned to face him, and he suddenly felt as if he had been handed all the power.<p>

"Hey, everybody." He began. "In case you haven't already read, I have been to my fair share of weddings." He paused for a ripple of laughter across the room. "So to start things off… I thought you should all know the truth about Rachel and Matthew."

Kurt watched as Rachel's smile faded, her eyes widened and she shook her head very slightly. Kurt simply smiled and picked up Rachel's script, clearing his throat and beginning his revenge.

"Rachel and Matthew are a perfect couple; No, a divine couple." He said. "A couple whose love is the stuff of myths. Their compatibility is so exact... that it can only be described as having been designed by the gods." The crowd chuckled and Rachel and Matthew smiled sweetly at each other.

"Since a picture is worth a thousand words" Kurt continued. "I put together a slide show so you can all see for yourselves." The first image lit up the wall, the words 'Rachel & Matthew' filling it in curly writing. "From the very beginning, Rachel and Matthew were destined for each other."

Baby pictures of the two came up, to 'aww's from the audience.

"Matthew and Rachel have always shared a love of God's furry creatures." Kurt continued, as a photograph of a young Matthew hugging his dog appeared, followed by Rachel holding Donna away from her by the feet, a disgusted look in her eyes. The crowd murmured, and laughed, as Matthew shot Rachel a half-amused, half-worried look.

"As they grew up, they shared similar educational goals."

A picture of Matthew at his graduation ceremony appeared, and then Rachel on the McKinley stage, 'West Side Story' emblazoned behind her.

"I thought you didn't like musicals?" Kurt heard Matthew ask Rachel quietly. Oh God, this was worse than Kurt had previously thought.

"And civic responsibility."

Then there was a picture of Matthew ladling some soup into a woman's bowl, 'harvest soup kitchen' on a sign behind him. Then a picture of Rachel at a Regionals car wash, in a crop top and her arms around Finn and a shirtless Puck. Kurt spotted Matthew nodding slowly.

"He was interested in the fashion of moment." Kurt said, to a picture of Matthew at a design pitch.

"And so was she."

A picture of Rachel appeared, in an animal sweater and a schoolgirl skirt and knee high socks, next to a fashionably dressed Brittany, Santana, Quinn and Mercedes.

"And today, Rachel and Matthew still share so many common interests." Kurt said, his voice wavering with past anger as the next pictures came up. There was one of Matthew, with his friends, at a baseball game, all eating burgers and hot dogs.

Then Rachel at some sort of protest, with a sign that said 'It's time to evolve: GO VEGAN'. Rachel's eyes widened and Matthew frowned.

"Their love is based on a deep understanding and acceptance of who the other person really is."

Following this, many more pictures appeared, including one of Rachel pushing Donna away, disgusted, standing beaming with Barbra Streisand records, and with another sign stating 'Meat is Murder'.

"The love of two true soul mates: Rachel and Matthew."

The room fell silent as Matthew put his head in his hand and Rachel remained, frozen, where she was. Santana got up as Kurt finished his speech.

"So here's to the most perfect couple brought together by destiny." Kurt raised his glass, feeling close to tears despite the relief of getting everything off of his chest. "I'm so proud of you, Rach."

Santana came on to the stage from the side, putting an arm around Kurt and guiding him away. "Okay, okay." She said. "Well, that was." She put her hands on her hips. "…Yeah. So, um, to keep the merriment going, Matthew's 'little brother' Pedro would like to say a few words. Pedro?"

Kurt stood at the back, barely catching Matthew's words as Pedro made his way up to the stage.

"So, safe to say you're not a meat eater?" Matthew said quietly.

"Matt," Rachel said quickly. "That was taken a really long time ago–"

"Then why exactly were you wearing your engagement ring?" Matthew frowned, as Rachel mouthed wordlessly.

"Thank you!" Pedro interrupted them. "As all you know, Matthew's my big brother. But he's more than that. He's my best friend." Pedro grinned at the noises of all the adults in the room. "And he has Rachel," he continued. "Who's really, really really cool. 'Cos she's gonna help me start my own cleaning business!"

Rachel's eyes widened as Matthew gaped, leaning back and surveying her. Kurt bit his lip and frowned.

"Oh, Rachel told me not to tell you, Matthew," Pedro suddenly realised. "But I'm so excited, so I'm only doing Matthew's place right now, but if anyone else is in the market for a really good cleaning service? Please see me in the lobby." The twelve-year-old grinned and waved a hand. "Thank you!"

Santana wandered over to stand next to Kurt as the room clapped, and Matthew spoke again, this time louder and clearer.

"That's great." He said, putting his napkin down and standing up.

"No, it's not– Matt–" Rachel got up and followed him as he walked out of the room. "Matthew, wait, please– let me explain–"

A nervous chatter filled the room as Kurt's face burned with shame. Why did he think this would be a good idea, oh God. What had he done?

"So what happened?" Santana asked.

"He needed to know the truth." Kurt said, his voice wavering, trying to convince himself as well as his friend.

"You could have told him face-to-face…" Santana told him quietly. "I mean, I know my moral compass doesn't always point due north, but… if I say something's wrong, something's wrong."

"You were the one that was always telling me to stand up for myself!" Kurt insisted. Now his best friend didn't even support him?

"Yeah, but that's not what you did. What you did was unleash twenty years of repressed feelings in one night." Santana said. "It was entertaining, don't get me wrong, but… if it was the right thing to do, you'd feel better right now." She paused. "D'you feel better right now?"

Kurt hesitated, just as Rachel came back in, tears filling her eyes. "The wedding's off." She announced, her voice cracking. "I hope you're happy."

She walked away to the bathroom, leaving Kurt open-mouthed, breathing quicker. _Oh God, oh God, oh God. What have I done, oh God. _He rushed out of the door, not even catching a glimpse of Blaine, who had been watching him from the side of the stage.

The cold air outside hit him as soon as he got through the door, tears beginning to spill over. He turned to see Blaine standing a few paces away from him, looking at him and biting his lip. _This is the last damn thing I need._

"God, what?" Kurt said tearfully. "What are you doing here?"

"You wouldn't return my phone calls." Blaine said softly.

"What do you want?" Kurt shouted. "You want another picture, for your paper?" He held his arms out.

"Kurt." Blaine began. "I'm sorry–"

"Oh, please." Kurt sniffed. "You used me to get ahead in your career. Be a man and admit it." Blaine looked down, shame and guilt playing on his face. "Or- or don't, but _please_ don't pretend that you give a shit."

Kurt turned away, wiping his eyes. God, now he was puffy and disgusting too.

"Please, just let me explain–"

"No!" Kurt whirled around. "It doesn't matter! I just destroyed my life and I didn't need your help to do it!"

"Great!" Blaine said loudly. "Finally!" Kurt looked at him incredulously. "I saw what you did in there and I thought it was amazing. Was it absolutely certifiably nuts? Yes it was, but you did something, Kurt. For the first time you were not just the perfect bridesmaid or groomsmen or _whatever_–"

"Stop." Kurt said, when he felt that feeling again. The same one he felt when he showed Blaine his suits, that night in his car, that feeling of _someone supports me, someone knows what I go through._ "Just stop, I cannot go through this with you again. I don't even know why I'm standing here talking to you." He turned to leave when Blaine grabbed his arm.

"Just- listen please, come here, listen to me." Blaine pulled him back so that their faces were inches apart. "Do you want to know the real reason I came here tonight? Because I knew this was gonna be hard for you." Kurt looked up to see Blaine's big, brown eyes looking into his earnestly. "And for the first time in a really long time, I wanted to be there for somebody."

Kurt's eyes flicked down. _I can't do this again, I can't_. He wondered absently who he was trying to convince.

"Yeah. All right. I messed up. I did. I'm sorry. And I'm gonna turn around, I'm gonna walk away. I'm gonna vanish. You'll never see me again, I promise. But I want you to know that I think you deserve-" Blaine swallowed, and Kurt forced himself to keep looking into his eyes. "I think you deserve more than what you've settled for. I do. I think you deserve to be taken care of for a change. I- I believe that."

Kurt simply stared at him. Blaine nodded, turned around and began to walk away when he suddenly stopped, and turned back. Kurt couldn't tell if he was relieved or scared.

"Ah, I forgot to give you this." Blaine said, holding up an iPhone with a bow around it. "It's a gift. So you don't have to carry around that crazy Filofax from 1987. This will take care of all the stuff you need to do – perfect for starting over."

Kurt simply stared at him, his silent tears beginning to subside, clearing his vision more.

"Okay. Will you take it, please, so I don't feel like such a jerk?" Blaine asked, taking Kurt's hand gently in his and placing the phone there. He gave him one last smile and nod, before walking away into the night.

Kurt felt the beginnings of a smile on his face as he looked down at his new phone.

Starting over actually sounded pretty great.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey! Thanks for all the reviews… you're all awesome and deserve cookies and hugs. I loved writing this chapter, so I hope you like it. And I hope it helps you get through the Glee hiatus. WE CAN DO THIS, GUYS.**

**Don't own.**

* * *

><p>Blaine sighed as he sat down behind his desk, another day at his now seemingly even more meaningless job. Sue approached him from her office, and he watched her warily.<p>

"Your story got a phenomenal response." She said matter-of-factly. Blaine attempted to force a smile. "Looks like you got yourself bumped from Commitments."

Blaine was not at all surprised when the self-satisfaction he would have expected didn't come.

"That's great." He said simply.

"Anderson." Sue said warningly. "Be happy. You got what you wanted, right?"

He leaned back into his chair as she walked away, and tried to remember how he stopped caring last time.

* * *

><p>"All I'm saying is that you two are family, you've got to work this out!" Burt persisted, pushing Kurt down gently so that he was sitting on the counter in the garage.<p>

"I know, but I'm telling you, she doesn't want to talk to me!" Kurt sighed helplessly.

"No, she loves you! Everything is gonna be fine, if you just talk to her." Burt's tone became slightly pleading, and Kurt bit his lip and looked away.

The ring on the door sounded. "Burt?" Rachel's voice called, as she emerged to face the two of them. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Rachel." Burt said sternly. "This is between you, and him. I'm outta this." And with that, he trudged off to work on a car at the other side of the shop.

Rachel crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"I feel terrible." Kurt said finally, meeting her eyes. She simply raised her eyebrows. "I'm so sorry for what happened–"

"Sorry?" Rachel's voice grew shrill. "You humiliated me in front of every single person I know and you think you can just say _sorry_?"

"I know, but I–"

"Kurt, you were _always_ jealous of me!" She shrieked.

Kurt's apologetic expression melted into confusion. "What?"

"Always!" Rachel screeched. "My voice! My boyfriends!"

"Stop it!"

"You've just been _waiting_ for the chance to tear me down!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is!" Rachel's voice was now at an ear-splitting volume and pitch. "And you took the _one_ thing in my life that was finally working out–"

"Oh, please!" Kurt snapped, suddenly tired of Rachel's dramatics. "This is so typical Rachel! You're not taking any responsibility for the fact that you lied to Matthew, you manipulated him–"

Rachel made an indignant squeak of protest, attempting to storm away, but Kurt got in front of her. "Did you even love him? Or was it just convenient?" He demanded.

"Oh please, Kurt, get off your high horse. Just admit it, you resent me because you were the one who always had to braid my hair and make my Halloween outfits and go shopping for my prom dress–"

"No." Kurt insisted. "I have never resented any of that."

"Yes, you have. You always thought that my life was so easy." Rachel scoffed.

"It was!" Kurt nearly laughed. "It is! You have never had a care in the world, you're beautiful, and talented, and charming, nobody ever didn't accept you, your life is perfect."

"Perfect?" Rachel demanded shrilly. "Are you crazy? You have no idea! You want to know the real reason why I decided to stay in New York? I got replaced. They found a new Elphaba. I would have stayed on I they wanted me. And to top it all off, Jake dumped me. He _dumped me_." Kurt bit his lip, his face softening a little. Well, this was new. "And then Matthew came along, and he was nice to me, and treated me well, you know?" Kurt bit his lip. He did know. "And I just…" Rachel shrugged. "I wanted to be someone he wanted. I was trying to be someone who deserved him, someone he could respect." Rachel looked up at Kurt reluctantly. "I was trying to be you."

Kurt blinked. "Why? Why would you want to be me when you get to be you?"

Rachel huffed. "Oh, this is a mess."

"I know."

"Kurt, you've been trying to take care of me ever since Mom died." Rachel stated softly.

"I had to." Kurt reminded her.

"No, you don't have to." Rachel persisted. "If you don't, you'd just be my best friend. Like it's meant to be. Maybe when I was young you needed to help, but now?" Rachel smiled. "You've got to stop taking care of me- of _everybody_."

Kurt looked at her. She smiled again, softly, with understanding, this time. He smiled a little to himself, nodding slightly. Starting over.

* * *

><p>That night, when Kurt, for the millionth time, caught sight of his bulging closet, he properly saw it for the first time. Right then he decided he was going to stop living in the past.<p>

And so he pulled the doors further open, grabbed the nearest suit, and threw it on the floor.

Well. That felt good.

Never had Kurt treated clothes with such disrespect, but as he tore them down form his closet and cast them onto the ground, he knew that these clothes didn't need it. They had memories, but so did he. He didn't need them to remember his friends, and he certainly didn't need them holding him back any longer.

After he had stuffed each outfit into a trash bag, he observed his empty closet with satisfaction. Maybe he would go shopping soon, fill up that empty space with _his_ things.

The phone interrupted Kurt's thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kurt." Matthew said.

"Hi," Kurt replied dazedly. This was the first time he had contacted him since last night. He did seem reasonably chipper, however.

"Listen, I really need a date for this benefit I was invited to, I totally forgot about it, and I was wondering if you could come with me?" The voice on the other end asked hesitantly. "I know it's your night off but I just really need–"

"Yeah, it's no problem. No, of course." Kurt replied quickly. "Yeah, I'll be right there."

"Thank you so much. See you in a few at the office?"

"Okay. Bye."

* * *

><p>After putting on one of his favourite suits, complete with bow tie, he got a taxi straight to work, his normal nervous butterflies when he knew he was seeing Matthew soon not present this time.<p>

"Wow." Matthew said when he caught sight of him, smoothing down his suit. "You look great."

Kurt simply smiled. He should probably dress for himself more often.

"So I guess you didn't have to find me a date for this benefit after all." Matthew smiled.

"Guess not." Kurt said quietly. "Matthew, before we go anywhere I… I just want to apologise for what happened last night. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Look, you… you did me a favour." Matthew said, shrugging. "It's not your fault I was about to marry someone I barely knew."

Kurt tried to lift the corners of his lips, but he very much doubted that it looked like a smile.

"I mean, what the hell was I thinking, right?" Matthew smiled slightly. "So what do you say we forget the whole thing?"

"Yes, please." Kurt said hastily. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Matthew nodded. "Now, I hate to ask you for another favour, but I need to print up my speech for tonight and I cannot find the file."

"Oh, yeah, I can get it." Kurt said, walking over to the computer and bending down to inspect the desktop.

"I am so thankful I could call you tonight." Kurt flashed Matthew a quick smile. "I can always count on you. You never say no, which I love."

Kurt froze.

No. Nononono_no._

He turned to face Matthew. "What?"

Matthew looked slightly confused. "Well, I– I just meant– I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

Kurt forced out a laugh. "Oh, God. Matthew…" He stood up. "I quit. Yeah. I quit."

"Wait, wait, what do you mean you quit?" Matthew asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

"When I came here after college, I was blown away by this company, and by you, and I got so caught up in the job that I never bothered to get my own life and I got to comfortable to leave, and then– then I had to come here every day to see you because I was so madly in love with you." Kurt faltered a little at the end, aware he was rambling, but held Matthew's shocked gaze. "Yeah. Horrible, crazy, crazy crush. Crazy." He picked up his bag, and walked across to the door, pausing just before it. "But you'll be fine, Matthew. You will. You'll get somebody in this job who will stay for two years max because that's what's acceptable and appropriate for this–"

But suddenly he was cut off by Matthew's lips on his, and ohmygod he was kissing him and this had been what Kurt had been _dreaming_ about for years and–

He didn't feel anything.

He felt lips. Just lips. No spark, no fireworks, no ground-falls-out-from-under-you indescribable feelings of bliss.

Not like with–

"I'm sorry." Matthew was saying, and wait, when did they separate exactly? "I'm really sorry, I don't know, you just like all of a sudden–"

"No." Kurt smiled a little, stunned. "It's okay. I've always wanted to know what that would feel like."

"…And?"

"Nothing." Kurt replied apologetically. "I didn't feel a thing."

"Ouch." Matthew laughed. "That hurts. Maybe- maybe we can give it another try."

Kurt nodded quickly. _C'mon, you're getting everything you ever wanted–_

And then they were together again, and Kurt was trying to kiss back, he _was,_ but… nothing. Not a thing. He actually opened his eyes after a couple of seconds.

"Nope." Kurt said, as they pulled apart again. "Not even a blip. You?"

"If I'm being honest? Not really." Matthew said, and Kurt nodded.

"That's… not what it's supposed to feel like. When you're with the person you're meant to be with." Kurt agreed. A muffled sound came from his bag. "Wait, what is that?"

He located his new vibrating phone, pulling it out and hearing the song blaring out of the small speakers.

_You make me feel like I'm living a–_

Kurt gaped at the screen.

**Blaine calling.**

Blaine.

_Blaine._

When he kissed Blaine, he…

He was meant to be with Blaine.

He silenced the call.

"I've gotta go."


	14. Chapter 14

**Oh, look. We've reached nearish the end. There will probably be another chapter or two after this, since I will write the end of the film, and my lovely, lovely regular reviewer ****Canadian-23**** suggested that maybe I could write the proposal since it wasn't in the film, and YES! That's a great idea, so I think I will be doing that next.**

**Thank you all for reading. Love you guys.**

**Don't own Glee, 27 Dresses, or the song Like A Star by Corinne Bailey Rae.**

* * *

><p>Kurt ran out of the office, bag in hand, the cold New York air hitting him square in the face and making his eyes water, but he barely noticed. The stinging wind made no impact on him, the breeze ruffling his hair for once not bothering him in the slightest.<p>

"Taxi!" He shouted, waving a hand over the road and balancing on the edge of the curb on his tiptoes. "Taxi– taxi! _Taxi_!"

The yellow car pulled over, swerving to reach him, and Kurt bounced slightly before hauling the door open and throwing himself inside.

He then realised he had no idea where he was going.

"Where to?" The driver asked impatiently.

"Uh- the New York Journal– building." Kurt said quickly, to minimal tutting and shaking of the head from the driver, who sped off down the street.

Kurt's leg bounced and his hands shook the whole way, trying to plan what he was to say in his head only to be faced with not remembering any actual words in the English language, so he gave up and just settled for picturing Blaine's face when he kissed him that night.

They were there before he knew it, Kurt throwing some notes to the driver and hopping out with his bag and phone still clutched at his sides, and managed to make it into the large building by some sort of peculiar half-run. He was faced with a long, blue corridor and then a wide office area, and a main desk with a few young guys sitting behind it, drinking what looked like beer and chatting idly.

He hastened towards the desk, leaning over it and knocking on it loudly.

"Excuse me? Hello?" The men all looked up at him. "Do you know where Blai– Kevin– Kevin Anderson is?"

"Yeah," said one dark-skinned, muscular man with a Mohawk. "He's covering his last wedding. Hey!" He pointed at Kurt, a grin spreading over his face. "You're the guy from the article! You're famous." He informed him solemnly.

Kurt nodded, grimacing. "Yeah."

* * *

><p>"Taxi!" Kurt waved an arm at the cars again, to have one pull over almost immediately.<p>

He clamoured in, throwing his bag down and sweeping his hair out of his eyes. "Pier seventeen?"

He looked up when the driver didn't say anything, only to find the familiar face of Ned, the taxi driver from the night of the two weddings. The night he met Blaine.

"Oh my God." Kurt breathed, smiling a little. "I've only got one suit tonight, so just go."

"Oh, come on." He said, seemingly disappointed.

"Just go!"

Ned huffed but drove at what Kurt suspected was definitely over the speed limit until they were faced with the sparkling water.

"Good luck!" He called as Kurt darted out of the car, throwing him some money and racing to the entrance of the pier where a man in a luminous jacket stood.

"Which way's the wedding?" Kurt panted.

"Straight down the end." The man indicated and Kurt hurried down the pier to see some more men in luminous orange jackets pulling in ropes from the bridge that connected the pier to a large, open boat where the wedding was taking place.

Kurt cursed under his breath as the man picked up the bridge and began to detach it from the boat.

There were around two metres of space between the bridge and the end when Kurt started running.

He sprinted up the bridge and took a flying leap, landing reasonably unscathed on the platform with the other wedding guests.

Well. Good.

That went well.

He then took a stride, and promptly fell over a step on the platform.

"I'm fine!" He reassured the other guests to general noises of worry around him. "It's all good."

He wandered slowly along the deck, admiring the yellow glow of the fairy lights in the dark, and the roses that had been weaved into the wooden bars along the outside of the area.

"Oh my God." Kurt turned quickly to see a wide-eyed blonde woman scrambling away from a man to stand in front of him, a good two feet shorter than he was. He then noticed she was wearing a white dress, and okay, she had better be the bride, because otherwise that would be the _height_ of wedding etiquette rudeness. "No freaking way! You're that guy from the article, what– what are you _doing_ here?"

Now that was a very good question.

"Um, well," Kurt began, surveying the excitable little woman in front of him and deciding he should probably just tell the truth. "Okay, long story short… there's this guy..."

The bride made a high-pitched _awww_, clutching her chest. "Tell me more, tell me more!"

* * *

><p>The bride, who, Kurt had found out, was named Julia, had completely fallen in love with his story, making coos and angry noises and squeals of delight at the appropriate times as he told it, waving off the occasional guest, bridesmaid or even at one point, husband, who tried to come and urge her to cut the cake or start the couple's dance.<p>

Julia promised to help Kurt immediately, waving away his thank you's, and pulling him by the hand up to a wooden stage at the front of the boat, pushing him in front of a microphone and standing next to him, squealing excitedly.

Kurt cleared his throat.

"Blaine?" The microphone squeaked back at him, but his voice projected over the ship, capturing the attention of all of the guests. "Blaine Anderson?"

"There he is, there he is!" Julia squealed, pointing into the crowd, having maybe recognised him from Kurt's description.

And sure enough, there he stood. Kurt could barely see him, but he could make out his face in the crowd, gazing at him, stunned. Kurt was pretty sure he saw him say 'oh my god', but a small, disbelieving smile was appearing on his face as he waved quickly.

"Um, hi." Kurt said, his voice wavering. "Um… uh–"

"You can do it, say it!" Julia encouraged, bouncing on her toes and widening her eyes earnestly.

"Uh, I just wanted to say that you were right about me, about all of it." Kurt swallowed, suddenly aware of lots of eyes on him, but tried to hold his gaze with Blaine. "I just didn't want to hear it, especially not from you. Um…" Kurt chucked nervously, squinting to try to make him out.

"Can we get a follow spot?" Julia called.

Suddenly, Blaine was bathed in a white light as a spotlight appeared on him. Kurt took his appearance in properly, smiling a little when he saw that his hair was gelled, and he was in a black suit with a red shirt, his brown eyes wide in shock.

"Ah, there you are." Kurt murmured as Blaine began to slowly walk further towards the stage. He took a deep breath. "Blaine, I've been waiting my whole life for a perfect guy to come along. I never expected to have anyone in high school, but when I got out of Ohio and into New York I was _sure_ my handsome prince would come along… and then you showed up." Kurt smiled slightly. "And you are nothing like the man I imagined. You're cynical… and cranky and impossible. But the truth is, fighting with you is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Kurt tried to examine Blaine's face. His eyes were trained on Kurt, his lips were parted, but his face showed no real expression. Well, Kurt thought, it's now or never.

"And I think there's a very good chance that I might be falling in love with you."

The crowd broke into gasps and quiet murmurs, but Blaine said nothing. He just kept looking at Kurt with those big, brown eyes, that unreadable expression on his face.

"So… that's it." Kurt glanced at Julia, who had her hands over her heart and was looking tearful. "That's all I have to say, so… I'll go now."

He stepped off the stage, his heart sinking when Blaine made no move to follow him. Well, at least he wouldn't live regretting not knowing what would have happened. He waded through guests to try to just get the hell out of there, when he saw Blaine, slowly approaching from the where he stood, meeting Kurt in the middle.

He stood in front of him, saying nothing and just surveying his face.

"Yeah." Kurt breathed. "Blaine, I just really– um…" But then he found he really had nothing more to say. So he just stopped with a nervous laugh and looked hopefully into Blaine's eyes.

Blaine grinned. "Get over here."

Kurt stared at him.

Blaine raised an eyebrow.

Kurt huffed out a disbelieving laugh and stepped into Blaine's arms, meeting his lips with a contented sigh. He barely noticed the whoops and cheers around him for the warm, familiar, but oh so exciting feeling of Blaine's kiss, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and realising just how much he had missed this.

They broke apart to laugh at the clapping around them, and came back together as the music started and couples began to come together to dance.

_I wonder why it is_

_I don't argue like this_

_With anyone but you_

_I wonder why it is_

Kurt and Blaine kissed again, finally melting into the feel of the other, holding tight the person they knew they could spend the rest of their lives with, and never wanting to let go.

So they didn't.

_I won't let my guard down_

_For anyone but you_

_We do it all the time_

_Blowing out my mind_

With their arms still wrapped around each other, they swayed and twirled in circles, eyes never leaving each other's gaze.

_Just like a star across my sky_

_Just like an angel off the page_

_You have appeared to my life_

_Feel like I'll never be the same_

_Just like a song in my heart_

_Just like oil on my hands_


	15. Chapter 15

**And here we have it! The proposal! **

**Thank you all for sticking with me this far. I really appreciate it. This will be the second to last chapter, I believe.**

**I don't own.**

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><p><em>Ten months later<em>

Kurt took a sip of his coffee, drumming his fingers on the table as Blaine spotted his coffee and took a seat opposite him, leaning over the table to kiss Kurt's cheek.

"Hey, you."

Kurt smiled and waggled his fingers as Blaine took a gulp of his coffee, sighing in satisfaction.

"You have a problem." Kurt told him.

"I can stop any time I want. There was just too much blood in my caffeine system." Blaine maintained. "How was your day?"

"Great!" Kurt enthused, bobbing up and down in his seat a bit. "The company's going well, I've got a meeting next Tuesday with some people who want to sponsor the clothing line. My book's filling up, and Santana is _loving_ designing, I can tell. She's getting less bitchy every day."

Blaine snorted.

"It's true!" He leaned in. "Did you know she's even considering getting in touch with Brittany again?"

"Really?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's nice."

"It _is._" Kurt said insistently, pointing his coffee cup at him. "It's really nice."

"Nothing is more discouraging than unappreciated sarcasm."

"Oh, be quiet." Kurt said, flapping a hand. "Maybe more people will like her if she's dating the sweetest girl on the planet."

"I like her." Blaine said honestly. "People say I have bad taste, but I like her."

"I like her too." Kurt said. "She's my friend."

Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, at least I have friends." Kurt grinned, as Blaine mock gasped.

"I have friends! My friends are _so_ much cooler than yours." He pouted, pointing at Kurt. "They're invisible."

"Uhuh. Santana's great. It just takes a certain frame of mind to handle her comments."

"The frame of mind where you ignore everything?" Blaine asked. Kurt poked him with his foot.

"How was _your_ day?"

"Um, I met the new Commitments guy. Poor sucker." Kurt shook his head and Blaine laughed. "I'm doing my in-depth, hard-hitting articles about gay marriage laws all over the world, and he's writing about rose petals and tower cakes."

"Come on, you loved it really." Kurt said, taking his hand on the table.

Blaine shrugged. "The new guy's good though. Pretty amazing, actually."

"Can't be better than you." Kurt smiled softly.

"Oh, stop." Blaine swooned over-exaggeratedly. Kurt giggled. "No, but really, he writes wonderful things. And… he says he would do our wedding, and he would do it beautifully."

Kurt's eyes widened as he swallowed. "Our wedding?"

Blaine just smiled.

Kurt nearly choked on his coffee. Was this… was this really happening? He managed to swallow while Blaine pulled a black, velvet box out of his pocket, and flipped it open to reveal a shiny, silver band and smiled dazzlingly.

"Kurt." He clasped his hand as Kurt fought to not hyperventilate. "If there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that a successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person. I fall in love with you all over again every single day."

Kurt huffed out a laugh as he blinked back tears.

"I… I think I've found that one special person I want to annoy for the rest of my life."

Kurt put his other hand over their interlocked fingers, meeting Blaine's eyes and beaming tearfully.

"Marry me?"

Kurt stared.

Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Yes. Of course, oh my god." Kurt got out, and Blaine pulled him up, got down on one knee and slid the ring onto his finger, before standing up, grinning and catching Kurt as he threw himself into his arms, the kiss sealing their lives together.

There was a pause, and then everyone in the coffee shop started to clap. They pulled apart to cheers of other patrons of the shop.

Blaine grinned. "We always draw a crowd."


	16. Chapter 16

**GUYS.**

**Thank you so, so much for sticking with me until the end. It means so much to me, you have no idea. Especially thanks to those who reviewed, and especially **_**especially **_**thanks to my regular reviewers. I would like to, in particular, say thanks to:**

**101, Canadian-23, Steffi Star, perchance to wake, mardie186, evol love, Temarifan9622, PatchesOfBlue, SceneNeko, Full-Empty-Spirit, Orange-Coyote, Mischevious Gleek, AmieLeighLuna, Yune, believer123, everythingsklaine-nothinghurts, Ella Crain, Violethillbeautiful, Azrael Blood, MrMouseandCheese, Number1KurtHummelFan, Contessa Sophie, and of course, my wonderful wonderful best friend Sophie, aka THELEMONSONG and many other names.**

**I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH.**

**I hope you have enjoyed this story. I am so thankful for all the support.**

**For the last time, I don't own Glee or 27 Dresses.**

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><p><em>Two Months Later<em>

Rachel smiled easily at Brittany as she handed her a wedding program and watched her hop away to sit down next to Santana. It had been a long year, but she was finally in the best place she had ever been, despite the fact that she had absolutely no money, a thought that previously caused intense panic to settle in her every time the notion would cross her mind, and no boyfriend. She was, however, living with one of her best friends in New York, doing small theatre shows, and while they may not be as high standard as she had dreamed, it was definitely still Broadway. Her relationship with Kurt was better than it had ever been – all the feelings they had both been bottling up since they were children were out in the open, and now they were truly best friends again.

Even Finn had gotten back in touch – he had gone to California, happily so, but was now looking to maybe move on, and he wanted Kurt and Rachel to be the first to know. Their break-up had been one of the hardest times in Rachel's life, and the beginning of a long string of meaningless, dramatic theatre boyfriends. She always seemed to attract the Jesse St James types. But Finn – sweet, innocent, kind Finn – was probably the best man that ever happened to her and getting him back in her life was something Rachel counted as a blessing.

Kurt was the happiest Rachel had ever seen him. Even Burt, upon meeting Blaine, stated that he had to be doing something right to be keeping his kid this joyful. Blaine and Burt had actually gotten on like a house on fire – his snarky wit coupled with his charming and polite attitude was something that both Burt and Carole took to immediately.

Simply everyone was invited to Kurt's wedding. Everybody from McKinley, all Rachel and Kurt's family, even Matthew and Pedro were making their way across the sand on the beach where it was taking place.

Matthew looked fantastic, in a white suit with that charming smile. Rachel was glad. He looked happy.

"God," Rachel could just make out Pedro saying to Matthew from afar. "I forgot how hot Rachel is. You think she'd go for me? I am a year older."

"I don't know, I'll put in a good word for you, though, big guy." Matthew smiled, before stopping in front of Rachel and taking the proffered program. "Hello."

"Hi." Rachel said softy. "I'm the maid of honour. I, um…" she took a breath, and looked at Matthew. It was still a little hard, thinking that this could have been _their_ wedding; she could have had a life with this man. "I live in Manhattan, with a roommate, and I star in some wonderfully underrated theatre, and I'm completely broke. But that's okay. I never eat any animal products although my idea of a pet is a rock, and the thought of hiking literally makes me shudder."

"Well," Matthew smiled slightly. "It's very nice to meet you –"

"Rachel," She supplied helpfully, laughing.

"Rachel." Matthew repeated, chuckling. "Got it."

"Well, wait until you see him." She said. "He looks gorgeous."

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><p>Kurt took a breath, looking at his reflection in the mirror. They had decided he was going to walk up the aisle, mainly because Burt was not letting up the opportunity to walk him, so the mere thought that Blaine was already up there waiting for him made the jittery butterflies in his stomach intensify.<p>

That morning he had got up, and put on his twenty-eighth suit. It was white, to match the whole theme of the light beach wedding, and he had been told by at least six people that day that he was positively _glowing_, and, looking in the mirror at that moment, he could see it himself.

"You ready?" Rachel bounced up and down, straightening his tie for the ninth time.

Kurt just nodded, not daring himself to speak.

"Everything's perfect!" Santana said as she handed a bouquet of flowers to him and one to Rachel, keeping one and pulling her forward. "You look ravishing, sweetie." She kissed his cheek and Kurt smiled shakily. She really was a lot nicer these days.

"Okay." Burt linked his arm with Kurt's, and looked over at him. "You ready, bud?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "Yes."

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><p>Santana walked slowly down the aisle in a beautiful, plain white strapless dress, with her bouquet of white roses, winking quickly at Brittany and smiling genuinely at Blaine, who was standing up at the front of the guests. Rachel followed, giving Matthew a small smile, Pedro a wave, and then looking over to the other side and beaming at Finn, who was sitting with Carole with his eyes fixed on Rachel, and awestruck look and loving smile on his face.<p>

Then, finally, everybody stood.

Because that day, Kurt went to a wedding where no one asked him to hold the bouquet, fold a place card or hold their dress while they peed. Everything was perfect, and he didn't care. Because right then, the only thing that mattered was the person waiting for him at the end of the aisle. And he was looking at Kurt the way he'd always hoped.

And as Kurt walked down the aisle with his dad, nothing in the world could have torn his gaze from Blaine. The look of pure, unbridled love, mixed with nervousness and unadulterated joy, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Burt hugged him tightly, and kissed the top of his head, then went to take a seat as Kurt stepped up onto the platform, handing his flowers to Rachel, and faced Blaine, his face shining and radiant with elation.

"So is this moment everything you hoped for?" Blaine asked, smiling.

Kurt shook his head. "No."

Blaine was visibly trying to look affronted, but couldn't stop the twitch of his lips.

"It's more. It's much more."

It was worth it to see the look of delight on his soon-to-be husband's face.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson in matrimony. Marriage is a cause for celebration…"

As it turned out, Kurt was right about one thing. He knew they'd all be there for him someday. He couldn't help but quickly glance back at the long line of women behind him, his twenty-seven bridesmaids, each in their own wedding dress.

"…You may now kiss."

So when Blaine pulled him in by the waist, grinning, to capture Kurt's lips with his own, Kurt knew that he could never have dreamt of a more perfect wedding. And that meant a lot.

Yes, Kurt Hummel still loved weddings. But now he had a marriage.

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><p><strong>FIN<strong>


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